


Book One: Pine Trees Smell Amazing and Who Knew Wolves Like Pizza

by EdgarAllenPoet



Series: wolf!verse [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst and Humor, Colorado, F/M, Feels, Gen, Heartbreak, High School, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Marijuana, Mormonism, Parent-Child Relationship, Pizza, Surrogate family, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Werewolves, this is gonna be long, very vague mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 62,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2706308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgarAllenPoet/pseuds/EdgarAllenPoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Werewolves are now what homosexuals were in the seventies, civil rights movements and all, but this isn't a story about that.  This is a story about five separate people living in a society that's being shaken with change.  </p><p>Spencer turns into a werewolf, and then he meets Jon, and eventually five angry, messed up kids turn into a wolfpack, or a family, depending how you look at it.  But before things fell into place, this is where it started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hey Moon....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where the whole thing starts, before werewolves and full moons and fairies and moving out and anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone. The rest will be updated shortly. Also, thanks to my mom for volunteering to read this thing. Hi mom! Uh.... look ma, no typos!

_Werewolves are now what homosexuals were in the seventies, civil rights movements and all. In the cities there are even wolf parades and rallies. Even so, not many wolves come out of the closet if they can help it. Most of them just… disappear. Werewolves are something that most people realize exist, but are skeptical about. “Maybe they’re just looking for attention.” “That’s not natural. There’s no way it’s real.” If someone’s kid turns into a werewolf, nobody talks about it. Other adults treat the parents with a sympathetic silence and make sure to keep their own children at a distance, lest it be catching._

__

_Werewolves make up a subculture that mortals are trying hard not to recognize, but heaven knows nobody goes out on full moons anymore._

**  
  
**

…

Spencer spotted her standing by the fountain and smiled wide, heading over. He might have tripped slightly in his final steps approaching her, but if he did, it’s none of anyone else’s business anyways.

“Haley, hi,” he said, and she turned to him smiling.

“Spencer.”  She hugged him, and he loved the way she fit perfectly in the fold of his arms. Spencer Smith had a girlfriend and it was practically the greatest thing ever.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, pulling back and sticking his hands in his pockets when he didn’t know what to do with them. “Mom insisted on dropping my sisters off at dance before driving me here.” He rolled his eyes, trying to demonstrate that he thought dance classes and sisters were both totally annoying, and that he would rather spend time with Haley than in a car with his family. Hopefully she got the message.

She smiled and started to walk. He followed after her.

“That’s alright, I just got here a few minutes ago. You know, you should really get your license.”

“I have my permit,” he shrugged. “I’m working on it. Not like they’d let me borrow the car too often anyways. I’d just be stuck driving the twins around.”

They both laughed, awkwardly, the way you do when you aren’t sure how else to act.

“So where are we going?” he asked her, biting his lip to keep from smiling too much, because seriously, he’d been going out with Haley for three months and his astonishment hadn’t worn off yet. He, Spencer Smith, had a girlfriend. They'd gotten together after an impromtu date at the county fair in July, and he'd been walking on air ever since. He’d only been waiting for that for seventeen years.

“I thought we could just walk around,” she offered, holding her hand out to him. He intertwined their fingers and smiled some more.

“Whatever you want.”

Bumming around the mall got boring after a while, and they quickly found themselves loitering on the sidewalk outside of the food court, making faces at people through the window to see if they could startle them. When a security guard came over and frowned at them, they decided to leave. They ended up walking to the park about half a block down the road, where they goofed around like children on the playground for a while, giggling and chasing each other. Haley eventually trapped him at the bottom of the slide, and they traded hesitant kisses for a little while. Soon enough they were making out on the slide, Haley perched with one knee on either side of Spencer’s hips, her hands in his hair, his hands on her back. They had their tongues in each other's mouths, and Spencer was half convinced in that moment that magic really did exist.

She pulled back a little while later for air. “Have you ever done this before?” she asked.

Spencer, to his defense, was lacking oxygen in his brain. “Been to a playground?”

“No, dummy,” Haley laughed. She had an amazing laugh. “Have you ever made out with anyone before?”

He darted his tongue over his lips and shook his head, raising his head a bit to look her in the eyes. She smirked.

“That’s okay, you’re doing good.” She leaned in and kissed him again, and he obligingly let his eyes slide closed and kissed back.

“Have you?” he mumbled against her mouth.

She nodded. “I had a boyfriend last year.”

Spencer was curious. Was that boy better at kissing than Spencer was? Where did they meet? Why’d they break up? How much did he do? How much was Spencer expected to do? Did Haley make out with the other boy at a playground too? There were so many pressing questions, but Spencer didn’t get to ask any of them with their mouths pressed together like this, tongues sliding over each other. She tugged gently on Spencer’s hair and he opened his mouth a tiny bit more. When she flicked the tip of her tongue just barely over Spencer’s, his brain just about cut out altogether and his entire body felt tense like a piece of plywood.

Her hands slid down from Spencer’s hair to his shoulders, his sides. They stopped on his hips and she ducked her head a little to kiss a spot on Spencer’s neck.

“Oh.”

Spencer’s voice came out with out his intention, and he blushed. He hated the way his whole face and neck heated up when he was embarrassed.  He was such a loser.  Who just said things like that when someone kissed their neck? He probably seemed like a total virgin and she was gonna think he was an idiot and leave.

Instead, though, he felt her smile against his skin and then she nipped at a spot under Spencer’s jaw. Oh, Spencer thought again, but thankfully didn’t say that.

Instead he squeezed her hips where he was holding her and murmured, “Don’t leave a mark,” because his mom would seriously kill him if he came home with a hickey, and he’d rather stay alive long enough to do this again. And again. And again.

“I’ll be careful,” she said, pressing a kiss to the hollow of Spencer’s throat, making his breath hitch again. Then she moved back up him and they were back to kissing. They were eager, with hands sliding nervously everywhere except for a few places they were too scared to go. It was inexperienced and slimy, with teeth bumping, kinda gross. Spencer didn’t want to stop ever.

Her hands stopped on Spencer’s sides, and Spencer felt kind of brave, using one hand to tug gently on her hair the way she had to him. He tugged a bit harder than he meant to though, and was about to apologize because this was his girlfriend and he was supposed to be gentle. He didn't mean to hurt her. But then she moaned, and Spencer didn’t know he could get hard that quickly.

She went back to kissing his throat, gentle fingers pulling the collar of his t-shirt down to get at his collar bone and near his shoulder. Spencer hadn't known that collar bones were sexy. Whatever, they apparently were. He pulled her hair gently again, because it seemed like the right thing to do, but then…

“Yowch!” Spencer yelped, scrambling back as quickly as he could, which was really rather impossible on a slide. Haley had gasped and pulled back, and was now staring at Spencer with wide eyes.

“Y-you bit me!” Spencer voice was an octave too high.  He yanked the collar of his shirt down a bit to look at where his shoulder was bleeding. Bleeding. Oh my God. He looked up at her again in disbelief, not knowing if that was some kind of freak accident or if it was a sex thing he didn’t know about or…

She looked different. Her teeth looked sharper and her eyes had changed. There was blood on her mouth. His blood.

“Haley…”

She looked down at her hands, and then hid them before Spencer could see what was wrong with them, a horrified expression on her face. She looked at Spencer again and then took off running.

“Haley!” he yelled, sitting up. “Haley, what the fuck!?”

Spencer wasn’t exactly an expert on getting bitten by humans and how much it was supposed to hurt, but Spencer felt like this one hurt incredibly more than it was supposed to. Even though she'd broken the skin and it was bleeding. Bleeding. Oh my God.

He pulled his shirt down to look at it again and hissed when the cold air hit it. His hands were shaking. No, actually, all of him was trembling. He had to be in shock or something.

“Well damn….”

Spencer’s head snapped up when someone spoke and he saw a man heading towards him. He couldn't see him very well through the darkness. Frightened, he scrambled back again, this time falling sideways off the stupid slide and landing on his ass. He leapt to his feet and stepped back.

“Stay away from me!” he yelled.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the guy responded, holding his hands up.

Spencer scrambled back again, but his shoulder knocked against the bar from the jungle gym and he hissed out a pained breath.

“Ow!"

“Did she just bite you?” the man asked, looking after where Haley had run off into the trees.

“It’s not a big deal. It doesn’t hurt that bad-”

“Let me see it,” the guy interrupted, stepping forward too close for comfort.

Spencer jumped back again. “What!? No way! Fuck off!”

“Charming,” the guy said calmly, “Really. I’m trying to help you. If that girl’s a werewolf then you could be in serious trouble,”

Spencer’s heart hammered in his chest, and he didn’t make a move to stop the guy from approaching him and peeling Spencer’s shirt up to look at the bite. He even helped gingerly take his arm out of his sleeve. Werewolf. Werewolf... he hadn't even considered that.  Werewolves existed, sure.  But that was on the news and in big cities.  Werewolves didn’t exist where Spencer lived.  Werewolves didn’t go around biting people in innocent, small town Colorado.  That kind of thing happened to other people, not to Spencer.

“Werewolf…?” he asked, voice shaking.

“What’s your name?”

“Spencer,” he replied, kind of numb. His head felt too light.

“Don’t go passing out on me, Spencer.” the guy said, looking at the bite. Spencer bit his lip and looked at it too. It was red and swollen, blood running everywhere and making a mess. It throbbed and burned. The guy swore quietly under his breath. “We need to go see Zack. He might be able to help with this.”

“Who’s Zack?” Spencer asked, still staring at the teeth-shaped bleeding crescent on his shoulder.

“My alpha,” the boy responded, moving out of Spencer’s personal space and taking him by the wrist, tugging him along. Spencer didn’t even try to protest. The word alpha didn’t make a lot of sense to him though. It sounded like a creepy sex thing, or something from Star Trek maybe? Spencer had never actually watched Star Trek, but sometimes he pretended that he had just so he could talk to someone at his lunch table besides his friend Ryan.  Ninth graders were moody and annoying.  He blinked hard. Why was he thinking about Star Trek at a time like this? His head was dizzy. He might throw up.

“Who are you?” he asked instead to pull himself back to reality, following the guy out of the park and pulling his shirt back down, biting the inside of his cheek when the wet fabric stuck to the wound. It hurt.

“My name’s Jon,” the guy said. “Come on, let’s hurry.” Right, hurry. Spencer followed the stranger down the street, and there wasn't anybody out walking around to give them a second glance.  Bleeding profusely and on the verge of passing out, Spencer disappeared into the night with a total stranger.

**  
  
**

…

Zack was bigger than Spencer expected him to be, dressed in cargo shorts and a t-shirt, with buzzed blonde hair and a baffled expression. He was sitting on the couch when Jon led Spencer inside, and Spencer didn't see how tall he was until he stood up. He was really freaking tall.

“Who’s this?” the man asked.

“He just got bit. Can you help?” Jon replied, closing the door behind them. There was some small voice in the back of Spencer’s mind telling him that following a stranger to an apartment with a large man waiting inside and then letting the stranger lock the door behind him was a really dangerous and stupid idea, but Jon seemed legitimately concerned for him. When Zack nodded and steered Spencer into the kitchen, it was gentle and Spencer got the feeling that he didn’t have to be scared of these guys. Maybe he was just delirious. He still felt pretty dizzy.

“Sit down, kid, you’re swaying.”

Spencer didn't even hesitate before obeying, dropping himself down into a nearby chair. Jon approached him and gently peeled Spencer’s shirt up again and let it hang around Spencer’s neck so that his shoulder was entirely accessible. He felt kind of stupid, sitting there with his shirt off in front of total strangers, but his head also felt really swimmy, so he was a bit preoccupied. If he had his head about himself he would have tried to suck in his stomach

The guy named Zack set a bag on the kitchen table next to Spencer and knelt down in front of him, looking closely at the wound. Wound. Blood. Oh my God. Spencer focused really hard on not throwing up on Zack.

“Definitely a werewolf,” he said, getting a bottle and some cotton balls out of the bag and pouring whatever was in the bottle onto them. He was... was he sniffing Spencer? He was sniffing Spencer. Ew. What? “This is gonna hurt, so bear with me,” he warned, then pressed the cotton to Spencer’s cut, and Spencer almost screamed. He pressed his fist to his mouth so that he wouldn’t, and he felt a hand rubbing his back which he assumed was Jon’s. It was warm and dry where Spencer was sweaty.

“Female werewolf,” he said. “Sixteen years old.. she must be a born.  I've met all the adults in town, and Pete didn't mention any strays.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Spencer said, still feeling dizzy as Zack fastened a large square of gauze to the bite and taped it in place.

“This what you kids do for fun these days?” Zack asked dryly, and Spencer had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to answer that question. “It’s going to bleed a lot, but we can’t know for now whether she changed you or not. If she did, then stitches will be pointless, it’ll close up by morning.”

“Here, let’s clean you up some,” Jon said, moving in with a wet washcloth and wiping the blood off of Spencer’s chest gently. Spencer watched him as he picked up one of Spencer’s hands and wiped the palm. His hands were all bloody and dirty.

“How’d that happen?” Zack asked, standing again.

“He fell off a slide,” Jon answered, and Spencer could feel his face burning with a blush, all the way down his neck and chest. He felt childish and stupid.

Some off the blood had gathered at a fold in Spencer’s stomach and made a line, and Jon wiped it away. Spencer had never been so embarrassed in his life, and he wanted to die.

He watched as Jon rinsed off the rag and then flinched back when Jon tried to wipe his face with it.

“Hey!”

“There’s tracks down your face,” Jon said calmly, one warm hand on the back of Spencer’s neck to keep him still, the cloth scrubbing gently at Spencer’s cheeks. “You were crying.”

“No I wasn’t,” Spencer replied indignantly, still blushing. Jon put the cloth down and pulled Spencer up to his feet.

“We’ll need to let him borrow a clean shirt, Zack. We can’t send him home like this,” Jon said.

Spencer watched as the edges of his vision filled with black and he blinked to try and get it to go away. Suddenly the room was spinning, and before he could do anything about it, the floor flew out from under him and he heard Zack’s voice yelling “Catch him!”

Somebody did; Spencer could feel them haul him up and then Spencer was entirely off the ground. He felt himself get carried somewhere and vaguely thought that they shouldn’t have been able to hold him that easy- he wasn’t stick and bones after all.

“Well… damn….”

“Oh well that’s great. How are we gonna get him home like this?” The voice was deep and rumbled like thunder against Spencer's ear. He imagined that his head was resting against someone's chest. He would have demanded to be let down (he wasn't a child!!) if he could figure out how to speak or open his eyes or move.

“He’ll just have to sleep here tonight. This way we can keep an eye on him.”

“I don’t like this, Jonathan…”

“I didn’t exactly plan on picking up a stray tonight, Zack.”

Spencer felt something soft and solid underneath him, but his head was pounding and he wasn’t physically capable of opening his eyes.

“He’ll be okay. We’ll just figure it out in the morning.”

“The poor kid.…”

Somebody sighed. “Yeah. I’ll stay with him.”

“Don’t forget to get some sleep, pup.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Everything went silent after that when Spencer fell asleep.

**  
  
**

...

Spencer woke up and everything felt weird. He yawned and blinked his eyes open. They felt sticky. He was in a strange place that he didn’t recognize, everything felt weird, and everything hurt. He spent a moment trying to figure out where he was or why he felt so weird, but when he looked down and saw paws instead of arms, he panicked.

What was supposed to come out as a scream sounded more like a bark and Spencer jolted so hard that he fell of the couch. Next thing he knew there was someone pinning him down completely, an arm pressed firmly to Spencer’s throat so Spencer couldn’t bite him (which he had actually tried to do. it made him feel sick).

“Calm down. It’s okay,” the guy said. “Breathe, Spencer. I need you to focus for me, okay bud?" Spencer growled, honest to God growled, and he wasn't sure how that noise had even come out of him. All he knew was that he was sore and tired and his heart was pounding and his head hurt. Something was seriously wrong, and to top it all off, he had no idea where he was. The person on top of him got heavier. "C'mon puppy, calm down. I need you to think really hard what your body looks like. Can you think about what you look like as a human, Spencer?”

Spencer was still entirely panicking, but he did as he was asked, and within a minute he found himself back to normal in his normal body. The guy carefully climbed off of him and helped Spencer up.

Jon: Spencer remembered his name. He remembered the kissing and Haley and the weird man and all the blood that had been all over him and being in someone's kitchen and... and suddenly he felt like crying.

“What time is it?” his voice sounded choked. He was dressed in a t-shirt that wasn’t his and his own boxers, which felt all rumpled after the scary wolf experience. He pushed them down to cover his thighs more and sat heavily on the couch.

“It’s seven,” Jon said, sitting next to him. Spencer’s jeans were folded nicely on the floor with his shoes. He wasn’t sure what had happened to his bloody shirt from the night before.

“Is he okay?” another man asked, appearing in the doorway and looking concerned. Spencer took a moment to remember his name. Right, Zack. The alpha, whatever the hell that meant.

“He’s fine,” Jon said. “Just changed while he was sleeping and freaked himself out. He’s okay.”

“Well, I guess we know that he’s changed now,” Zack said, walking into the room. He sat down on the couch next to Spencer, who eyed him carefully and leaned away. “Let me look at the bite real quick. See if it’s closed up.”

Spencer obediently pulled his shirt up and his arm out of the sleeve to show off his shoulder, which didn’t hurt hardly as much as he remembered it hurting. Zack carefully pulled the bandage off to look and then nodded. Spencer didn't want to watch this happen, so he looked at Jon instead. Jon looked younger than Spencer had estimated the night before. With the room lit and Spencer's head not spinning, Jon looked less like thirty and more like twenty, twenty-two at most.

“It’s completely healed,” Zack said, carefully folding the bandage and getting up to toss it out. Spencer stared down at the pale pink crescent on his shoulder and ran his finger over it gently.

“I’m a werewolf then, huh?” he said, voice sounding weak and too young.

“Welcome to the club,” Jon said.

Spencer’s throat was sore and tight again, and he bit his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. He set his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands, tears coming out of his eyes whether he wanted them too or not. The couch dipped down a bit to his left and someone put their arm around Spencer’s shoulders, tugging him into their side. Spencer let them. He sniffled.

“It’ll be alright,” Jon’s voice said, and he felt Jon nosing around in his hair by his ear. It really should have freaked him out, but he was too tired and sore and busy crying to do anything about it. It was probably a weird werewolf thing, and Spencer figured he’d have to get used to weird werewolf things. It was oddly comforting somehow.

**  
  
**

…

“Dude, where were you last night? Your family was going crazy.  Your mom even came over to ask my dad if he’d seen you,”

Spencer was technically grounded ‘for the rest of your life, Spencer James Smith, what is the matter with you!?’ and banished to his room until he could come up with a good explanation for where he’d been last night. Technically Ryan shouldn’t have even been there, but Mrs. Smith had a huge soft spot for Ryan and let him in. Even so, Spencer didn’t answer to fourteen year olds.

“Where’d you disappear to?” Ryan asked, sitting down on Spencer’s bed and nudging his knee. Spencer normally would have nudged back, but he didn’t have it in him. The thing was, he really wanted to tell Ryan where he’d been. Ryan was pretty cool for a ninth grader. Spencer had been hanging out with him since five year old Ryan stole nine year old Spencer’s baseball and threw it in the gutter. Spencer had gotten mad and shoved Ryan, making him skin his knee. They became friends on Spencer's front while Mrs. Smith put a bandage on Ryan's knee and gave him a popsicle. They talked about superheroes and forgot that they were supposed to be mad at each other. Ryan and Spencer had grown accustomed to each other, and they told each other practically everything, but… this secret was too big and too weird to tell Ryan.

“I went to a friend’s house and I forgot to call mom and let her know,” Spencer lied.

“Hm.”  That is the same thing Spencer’s mom had said to him. Obviously neither of them believed him.

“Really!” Spencer insisted. “That’s where I was.”

“Which friend?” Ryan asked.

“Brent.”

“Is he the one who likes video games?” Ryan asked. “Or the one who works at the carwash?”

“Video games,” Spencer said, then frowned. “Everyone likes video games, loser.”  He nudged Ryan.

Ryan nudged back. “Dumb ass.”

“Cheese licker.”

“Oooh some insult there,” Ryan rolled his eyes and pretended to sulk, and Spencer grinned victorious.

“Was last night okay?” Spencer asked, looking at Ryan carefully.

Ryan shrugged. “As good as it gets.”

“Hm….”

Ryan sighed. “Yeah.”

**  
  
**

…

It took lots of apologizing and coercing and begging and Brent coming over to lie and say that yes, Spencer had totally been at his house that night, he just forgot to call. On the upside, Spencer was finally ungrounded after two weeks of doing absolutely nothing. On the downside, everything sucked. He started locking his door at night, because he never knew when he might wake up not in his human body. He had to be careful to watch his temper, because if he got too mad then he might growl, or his eyes would change.

To make it harder, he was seemingly always pissed off. Pissed off and hungry- it was like he’d been hit with a triple dose of puberty, mood-swings and all.

He could tell his parents were getting frustrated with him. One minute he was fine, normal Spencer, and then next he was clenching his fists and storming out of the room. There were a million things he couldn’t get used to, like his newly enhanced sense of smell, or finding himself accidentally eavesdropping on his neighbor’s conversation in an entirely other house. Sometimes at school, for no apparent reason, fur would show up on the tops of his hands, and he hand to press them under his thighs and focus really hard until it went away.

His life was a trainwreck.

His mother, on a similar note, was curious.

“I’m not stupid, Spencer,” she told him. “There’s something going on with you. Why won’t you talk to me about it?”

After several renditions of this conversation, Spencer was desperate. He pulled the last card that he had. “Mom, I can’t. It’s guy stuff….”

That, however, backfired, when his dad knocked on his bedroom door a half hour later and gave him the ‘you can come to me with any questions you have. Adolescence is a hard time for everyone’ speech. Spencer nearly threw himself out the window to escape it.

Spencer was at the end of a long and stressful day when his mom called him downstairs after dinner. He went, reluctantly, but froze with wide eyes when he saw who was at the front door.

“Haley’s here,” his mom said, smiling at him. “I was just telling her how nice it is to see her. You haven’t had her over in a while, Spence.”

Spencer hadn’t had her over in weeks. He hadn’t seen her since that night on the playground, twenty nine days ago exactly. He'd been counting. He swallowed hard and walked over to her.

“We’re just gonna talk for a while,” he said, stepping outside and pulling the door closed to protect against curious mothers.

“Spencer, I-”

“Let’s take a walk,” Spencer interrupted her, stuffing his hands far into his pockets and keeping space between them, trying to send a message.

“Okay,” she walked with him down the sidewalk, looking nervous. Spencer was nervous too. He felt like he was going to throw up.

“We need to talk about what happened,” Haley said, and Spencer nodded silently. He didn’t know how to start this conversation. He'd never been taught how to deal with your girlfriend apparently being a werewolf. Haley sighed.

“I didn’t mean to,” she said.

“You bit me.” Spencer said it with as much conviction as possible.  If his voice cracked on the last word, he wasn’t admitting to anything.

“I didn’t mean to,” she repeated, sounding as desperate as Spencer felt. “It… it just happened. It’s a possessive thing, and sometimes during… activities like that, instincts can take over and… I didn’t mean to, Spencer, I’m sorry.”

“You bit me,” he said again. “And then you ran away and left me there, totally fucking confused, and I didn’t even know you were a werewolf, Haley. You never told me!”

“How was I supposed to tell you, Spencer? It’s not exactly something anyone talks about!” she snapped at him. “What would you have done if I’d just come right out and said it? You would have run away!”

“You ran away,” Spencer said, crossing his arms. They’d stopped walking and were arguing on the sidewalk about a block from Spencer’s house. “You bit me and then ran away, and now I don’t have that option anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Spencer….”

“Do…” he faltered for a second. “Do you know how scared I was? You… you changed. You looked so different. And this guy showed up and was like take your shirt off! And then went fucking Harry Potter on me like ‘you’re a werewolf, Spencer’ and you were just gone!”

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly.

Spencer sighed.

“Can I see it?” she asked, biting her lip. She looked cute like that, and no matter how mad Spencer was, he still wanted to kiss her until she stopped biting it.

“The scar?”

She nodded. Spencer nodded slowly and pulled his shirt up to expose his shoulder, where a now white half circle was embedded in his skin.

“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning in. Spencer held his breath as she placed a gentle kiss to it, and after a moment let the breath out, relaxed. He hugged her tight, not caring how awkward it was with his shirt half off, and she hugged him back.

“I’m sorry this happened,” Haley said. “But we’re in this together now, okay? We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

Spencer may or may not have been clinging to her a little.

“I love you,” Haley said, and for the first time in a while, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from smiling, even though he was choking up.

“I love you too.” They'd never said that before.

**  
  
**

…

When Spencer walked out of school, hand linked to Haley's, he was thinking about going to her house to 'study,' doing some math homework, making out on her bed until her parents came home. Haley didn't know that yet, but she would probably go along with it. If she didn't, then maybe Spencer would actually do his homework. He had his senior year to pass, after all.

Spencer liked hanging out with Haley. He'd liked it before, of course he did, but now he liked everything that he liked before and also that Haley was the only person in the world who he didn't have to lie to anymore.

Unfortunately, she also didn't have a whole lot of answers. Haley was born as a werewolf, so she went through the horrible, awkward 'puppy' phase, as she called it, when she was too young to really remember it.

"It started when I was two," she'd told him, shrugging. "Random transformations when you're asleep or angry, that's all I can really remember. I don't know about sense of smell or anything because it's always been this way."

It wasn't like he could look online for information about this stuff. He knew there were other werewolves out there, but they didn't go around publishing blogs and forming chat rooms to talk about wolf issues.  Not that he knew of, at least.  At this point, vague answers about wolf puberty and someone to complain to was all Spencer could ask for in a girlfriend. Besides, the last thing he needed was for his parents to find werewolf stuff in his browser history.

"Spencer!" A voice broke Spencer out of his thoughts and he looked around. "Hey Spencer!"

"Who's that guy?" Haley asked, pointing.

"That..." Spencer said, squinting. "That's Jon."

"Jon?" Haley asked. "Who's Jon?"

"Hey!" Jon jogged over to him, smiling. "Hey man, what a coincidence. How are you?"

"I'm good," Spencer said. "Good. What are you doing here?"

"Oh I was just headed to the store," Jon said. "I live down that way, so I'm just passing by."  He looked like he’d just gotten out of bed, his brown hair a tousled mess, his jeans hanging low on his hips, and his flannel shirt sleeves rolled up.  

Spencer had been to Jon's apartment; he remembered that. But he'd been a bit too hazy on the way there to remember where it was. Also, it had been dark out.

"Ahem," Haley said, nudging him.

"Oh!" Spencer said, remembering himself. "Haley, this is Jon. I met him the night that.. Uh.. You know." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Jon, this is Haley, my girlfriend."

**  
  
**

Jon did this thing where he nonchalantly sniffed the air in Haley's direction and smirked. "You're the girl from the playground."

Haley was watching him carefully. "I am."

"Yknow, it's a good thing I showed up when I did. Spencer sure was shocked."

Haley narrowed her eyes. "Well it's not exactly like I planned for that to happen," she said.

"I would hope not.”

There was something in the way Jon and Haley were looking at each other, heads high, eyes narrowed, jaws clenched. Spencer realized they were challenging each other or something. It must have been a werewolf thing, but Spencer could practically smell the tense energy running through the air between them.

"Guys," he hissed. "Knock it off.”

Jon snapped out of it and had the decency to look embarrassed, but Haley continued to glare.

"Anyways,” Jon said. “I was meaning to ask, would you guys like to grab something to eat with me?  We could head to the mall, my treat.”

Spencer said "sure!" at the same time that Haley said "we're busy, sorry," and they glanced at each other, Haley glaring. Jon chuckled.

"You go ahead," Haley said, her hand on Spencer's shoulder. She smiled, but it looked forced. "Call me tonight?"

Spencer didn't have time to answer when Haley pulled him in for a kiss, tongue and everything. She pulled away after a few seconds, leaving Spencer red faced and breathless.

"I'll call you," he said, and Haley smiled again, this time smug, turned, and started walking towards home. Spencer wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and glanced at Jon, who was still chuckling.

"Someone's possessive," Jon smiled fondly. "C'mon. You're probably starving."

Spencer was, actually. And if Jon was paying, who was he to question free food? He smiled and went with him.

**  
  
**

…

“This is so good,” Spencer gushed, shoveling pizza into his mouth. “How did you find this place?”

“First night in town I got lost, followed my nose, and ended up here. It’s amazing, right?” Jon sipped at the can of coke they had sitting between them with two straws stuck in it. He’d had enough money for two slices of pizza but only one can of coke. Spencer didn’t mind. Honestly though, the restaurant smelled like grease, cheese, and feet. Why would Jon follow a scent like that?

“Amazing,” Spencer said, nodding. The pizza was pretty greasy, and he felt some of the grease run down his chin. Jon reached over with a napkin and wiped it off. Spencer blushed slightly but grinned.

“Thanks.”

“Mhm.”  Jon said, finishing off his pizza with one giant bite. “So how are you doing, adjusting to the werewolf life?”

Spencer looked around nervously to see if anyone was around to overhear them, but Jon was totally relaxed. The restaurant was abandoned and the staff was hiding in the breakroom or something. Spencer looked around again before leaning back in the booth and folding his arms over his stomach.

“It’s alright…”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?” Jon grinned and raised an eyebrow.

Spencer sighed. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Jon asked. “I mean, I’m a born, so I don’t have personal experience, but I’ve known a lot of newly changed puppies.”

“You’ve known a lot of other werewolves?” Spencer asked, honestly pretty curious. He was a bit deprived in the area of werewolf culture.

Jon nodded. “Believe it or not, Chicago has a decently sized wolf scene. My parents had a habit of taking in newly turned strays and helping them out.”

“That’s really nice of them,” Spencer said, smiling.

Jon nodded. “It was great. Zack was a family friend, and he moved out here a few years ago… I’ve always dreamed of moving someplace like this, and he offered for me to room with him. The forests are so pretty.”

Spencer took another bite of his pizza. “Is that a normal dream? For a werewolf? Most kids run away to the city.”

Jon shrugged. “Big cities are over stimulating. So much noise and smells and… This cluster of towns here? It’s practically empty compared to the city.  It’s so freeing.”

Scratching at his arm, Spencer nodded a bit. “I can see how it could feel suffocating. It feels like… everything is so much louder and just… there.”

“You’ll get used to it, puppy.” Jon ruffled his hair, and Spencer smiled, ducking his head. He glanced down at his phone and sighed.

“I think I’d better be getting home,” he said. “I’m still kind of walking on thin ice, after uhm… y’know.”

Jon nodded and pulled his wallet out, throwing his last five dollars on the table for the bill. He got up and stretched, arms above his head, pulling at his shirt and exposing his stomach a bit. Spencer realized he was staring, then blinked hard and looked away, laughing at himself. What the hell was that? Spencer didn’t even like guys. He thought about making out with Haley and smiled.

“What’s that face for?” Jon teased, pinching Spencer’s cheek. Spencer batted Jon’s hand away and laughed, ducking out of reach.

“Nothing.”

“Mhm.” Jon winked, and Spencer rolled his eyes. Jon was simultaneously the lamest and most amazing person Spencer had ever met.

Spencer shoved Jon’s shoulder. “It’s nothing.”

**  
  
  
**

…

Jon really didn’t have to walk Spencer all the way to his house, and maybe it really wasn’t smart to let an older boy who was practically a stranger know where he lived, but Spencer wasn’t the poster boy for good choices at the moment, so he decided not to worry about it. When they got there, Ryan was sitting on his doorstep eating a sandwich off of a plate that definitely came from Spencer’s house. He glared suspiciously at Jon in a way he did with anyone who got too close to him (Spencer knew from experience).

“I’ll see you,” Jon said, raising his hand and walking away. Spencer jogged up to the front door and nudged Ryan’s foot with his own.

“Who was that?” Ryan asked, mouth full of sandwich.

Spencer poked Ryan in the forehead and said “Chew, dummy.” Ryan kicked him in the shin. “A friend from the high school,” he answered. He lied. Spencer was getting kind of sick of lying to people all the time.

“That’s not carwash guy or video game guy,” Ryan said, “And it’s definitely not Haley.”

Spencer scowled. “I have more than three friends, asshole.”

Ryan nodded and looked up at him. “You have me.”

Spencer looked carefully at Ryan, knowing there were layers to that statement when it came from Ryan. It was more like a question, but Ryan would never admit that.

“That’s right, I got you.” Spencer ruffled Ryan hair, and Ryan frowned and swatted at his hand. Spencer smiled.

"I've never seen him around the school though," Ryan continued. Spencer groaned.

"He wouldn't hang around your hallways, he's a senior."

“You hang out in my hallways.”

"Drop it, Ross," Spencer snapped, and Ryan sighed like a dying man.

“Whatever," he flipped his hair back out of his eyes. "I wrote another poem.” Ryan grinned up at him.

Spencer groaned. “No.”

“It’s about unrequited love and the way it tortures a soul,” Ryan said seriously, as if he knew anything about that at thirteen. Spencer sighed and flopped down on the porch steps, laying back and throwing his arm over his eyes.

“Lay it on me, Shakespeare.” Spencer could practically hear Ryan grinning as he flipped open his notebook. The smile was worth it.

**  
  
**

…

Spencer couldn’t remember exactly how it happened, but it was right there on the screen- jwalk:) and a phone number. Spencer stared at it for a while, then stared down at the bulge in his underwear. If anyone could help with this, it was Jon. And really, Jon and he had been friends for almost two months. That was long enough for them to talk about this stuff, right?

Spencer wasn’t really sure. Brent spoke almost entirely in dirty jokes, and getting Ryan to talk about anything intimate was as hard as pulling teeth. Ryan never wanted to talk about girls either, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Spencer. When he himself was that age, girls were the only thing he ever wanted to talk about.

**  
  
**

Well, it was now or never.

The message read: is the nvrending bonr a wolf thing? plz help. -spence

He flopped back on his bed and pressed his pillow to his face, hoping that maybe if he suffocated himself, that’d kill him before he died of embarrassment. Or of lack of blood in his brain. This was seriously a problem.

About five minutes later, when Spencer was on the brink of changing his name and running away to Las Vegas, his phone started ringing.

He flung a hand out, grabbing blindly for it, and pressed the button. When he held it up to his ear, hysterical laughter erupted and he flinched back, it was so loud.

He figured it’d stop after a few seconds, but when it didn’t, he scowled.

“You aren’t helping,” he snapped.

Jon continued to laugh.

“Shut up! You’re such an asshole! Oh my god.”  He was totally whining.

Jon kept laughing, but it sounded like he was trying to stop. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I’m really not.”  He exploded in laughter again.

“I hate you,” Spencer growled. “Never mind I asked.” He hung up and flopped back again, hiding behind his pillow. Seconds later, his phone trilled and he let himself growl before picking it up.

There was a new text from Jon: wolves have a high sex drive, young ones especially. Jon texted in full words, and it was possibly the coolest thing ever.  It made him sound all mature and intelligent.  Maybe Spencer should start texting like that.

Immediately his phone alerted him of a new text: puppy;).

Spencer laughed and texted back: i hate u.

And then: thanx.

**  
  
  
**

…

They were sprawled out on Haley’s parent’s couch in the living room with an episode of America’s Next Top Model on the tv. Haley was curled up against Spencer’s chest, and Spencer was absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair.

“So I was thinking,” he said, before he could convince himself not to. “Well… we’ve been going out for a while now, and… maybe it’s too soon… but maybe you would want to…”

Haley looked up at him and wrinkled her nose. “What are you talking about?”

Spencer bit his lip. This was a stupid idea, oh my God, kill him now.

“Uhm… I was just… we’ve made out before and stuff, and so I was just thinking maybe we could… do… more?” Spencer had forgotten how to talk, apparently, because he was just a giant idiot.

She sat up on the couch and looked at him better. Then she glanced around to see if her parents or sister were lurking anywhere. Her parents were out on errands, and her sister was in the backyard talking on her cellphone. She met Spencer’s eye again.

“You want to have sex with me?” she asked, blushing slightly. Spencer blushed too and dropped his gaze.

He sat up. “Well… uh I mean… I was just….”

Haley smiled and put her hand under Spencer’s jaw, pulling his head up to look at him.

“I want to,” she said, “But there’s something we need to talk about first. Sometime when my sister might not overhear us.”

The next day they talked about it in quiet voices while walking around the park holding hands. They wouldn’t want someone to overhear them talking about sex, but even more, they wouldn’t want anyone to overhear the word ‘werewolf’ and panic.

They decided that when they did it, it would have to be at Spencer’s house. Haley’s parents, being werewolves and all, would be able to pick up the scent no matter how careful they were. They would wait until Spencer’s family was out, and then they would do it. But even more important, they talked about what it would mean.

“Werewolves mate for life, Spencer,” she told him, sitting him down at a park bench. “And… while doing it doesn’t necessarily mean we’ve mated, not unless we say it does… well, it’s going to be a major emotional investment for us.”

Spencer nodded. Of course he knew that. He’d heard the schpeel in sex ed about how sex wasn’t just physical, it was mental, and how chemicals would go crazy and blah blah blah blah.

“But being-” she looked at him intently and lowered her voice, “-werewolves… it’s a bigger deal. The bond will be stronger. We’ll get more possessive of each other. I’m ready to, Spencer. I want to. But I also want us both to be completely ready.”

Spencer nodded again. Talking about this outloud was awkward.

“We have to be ready for what we’re getting ourselves into,” she said seriously.

They talked some more, and decided together that they loved each other, they were in this together, they could handle it. Afterall, Haley had bitten him and they were still together. They’d been together for almost six months, and a lot of other kids started having sex long before that. They were almost adults. They totally knew what they were doing.

And, so they did.

One night when Spencer’s parents took the twins out to a fifth grade event, Spencer stayed behind and Haley came over. It was clumsy and awkward, since they both had no idea what they were doing, but at the same time it was kind of amazing, in Spencer's opinion.

Afterwards, lying there shaking and slightly exhausted, Spencer rolled onto his side to face her. They were lying in his bed. He tried not to think about the TMNT poster hanging on his closet door or that four cartoon characters had just watched the whole thing.

“I love you,” he whispered, and she smiled at him. Spencer loved her smile. Every time he saw it, it made him feel like he was bubbling over a bit.

“I love you too,” she leaned in and kissed him gently.

“I want you to be my mate,” he whispered against her lips, and she pulled back to look him in the eye.

“Are… are you sure?” she asked him, sounding serious.

Spencer nodded slowly. “I’m sure. I love you.”

“Werewolves mate for life,” she reminded him, looking him in the eyes, mouth curving up in a smile.

“For life,” he said, reaching out and pushing her hair out of her eyes. “I want it if you do.”

She smiled wider, melting Spencer into a big pile of goo.

“I want to. Mates?” she leaned in and kissed him gently.

Spencer smiled and kissed back. “Mates.”

Shortly after that they got up and put their clothes back on. They decided to go out to the movies, because Spencer wasn’t sure he could hold a normal conversation with how happy he was feeling. They walked into town and held hands the entire time they were out.

**  
  
**

…

Brendon Urie was in the supermarket with his mom, counting the tiles as he followed her around, bored out of his mind. Thirty minutes, she’d said. We’ll be in and out, she’d said. Lies, lies, lies, Brendon was so bored.

They were almost to the check out line when they ran into Mrs. Smith, a friend of Brendon’s mother from a book club the ladies did every other Thursday afternoon. Brendon had to use amazing amounts of self control to keep from whining and tugging on his mother’s sleeve when she stopped to talk to Mrs. Smith. But he was thirteen and too old for such things. Anyways, Brendon wanted to die, he was so bored.

They talked about the usual things. About their kids and the other women from book club. Mrs. Smith said how tall Brendon was getting, which he really wasn’t, not yet. Almost fourteen years old and he was still only five foot two. “Pocket sized,” Mrs. Smith said, patting his shoulder and smiling. His brother Mason had been six foot by this age. It really wasn’t fair.

He resorted to picking up a magazine he wasn’t allowed to be reading- but it wasn’t like his mother was paying attention to him- and flipping through it. It had an article about the Hottest Men in Hollywood, and Brendon had to disagree. Tom Felton was so much hotter than Usher, what was this journalist even thinking?

“-and I just don’t know what to do with him,” Mrs. Smith sighed, perking Brendon’s attention. “He’s been so moody lately, shutting us out and hiding out in his bedroom all of the time. He’ll hardly talk to us. He ditched school the other day. Maybe it’s just a rebellious phase or something, but my husband and I are at a total loss…”

George Clooney wasn’t even hot, and Brendon wasn’t sure that Justin Bieber counted as a ‘man.’ The magazine was flawed. He tried really hard not to eavesdrop on his mother’s conversation, but she was the one keeping him here, after all, and he was curious. He’d met Mrs. Smith’s son once or twice, and he hadn’t seemed like a bad kid or anything. The only thing he really knew about the kid was from what his mom said, but he thought that he sounded cool. Brendon wanted to be his friend more than he was willing to admit.

He needed more friends.

“He needs guidance,” was Mrs. Urie’s advice. Guidance, guidance, guidance- her favorite advice for troubled youth.  That’s what she always said when the topic of other people’s children came up.  

After Mrs. Smith said goodbye and went to check out, Brendon's mom made them turn around and go back down the aisles again. Brendon protested, reminding his mom that she’d said half an hour, and it was now going on two.

She just shot him a look and said, “You volunteered to come with me, now hush.”

'Volunteered' wasn’t exactly the right word. His choices were either accompany his mom to the store or help his dad in the backyard. Conversations between Brendon and his father had been getting more and more tense and painfully awkward lately, so Brendon didn’t consider spending an afternoon together to be an option. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint what had changed between his father and him, but something was off and it made Brendon feel a little bit like he couldn’t breathe whenever he had to think about it.

He sighed, “Yes ma’am,” and followed her through the store, dragging his feet and looking forlornly at the ceiling for help.

She spent another twenty minutes picking up pie ingredients and checking out before they were finally able to exit the store, a dozen paper bags filled with enough groceries for six kids and one pie. That pie really started all the trouble in the first place.

**  
  
**

…

Spencer sent Jon eleven different text messages after his mom had left to take his sisters to dance class. They were all variations of ‘hey’ with different amounts of ‘y’s and occasional smiley faces. Eventually he sighed and sent jwalkr y u no love me? Everyone was ignoring him, and he was bored. Plus, he really wanted to talk to Jon. The greatest thing in the whole wide world had happened to him, and he had no one to tell except Jon Walker, who wouldn’t text him back.

Right as Spencer was about to send another text, it chirped, and he practically jumped to check it.

Jon sent him a message: send me one more and I will flick you in the ear. Spencer frowned at the message, because what? What kind of a threat was that?

Another message came in right away: cant hang. Call me?

Spencer smiled and did that, venturing out into the backyard for privacy and sprawling out on the prickly grass, dry and brown from the changing seasons and lack of rain.

“Hey puppy,” Jon said when he answered his phone. Spencer rolled his eyes.

“Hey. I got news,” Spencer rolled onto his stomach and flicked a lady bug off a blade of grass, sending it flying. He immediately felt a bit guilty and hoped that it landed alright.

“What’s up?”

Spencer held his breath for a second. “We did it.”

“I’m gonna need a few more words than that, bud. Like, some nouns. Maybe an action verb. Help me out.” Jon’s voice sounded lazy and tired. Spencer wondered what he was up to and smiled.

“Haley and I,” he specified. “We did it. We’re mates now.”

He wasn’t exactly expecting the drawn out silence on the other end. He frowned.

“Uhm. Jon?”

“You’re joking, right?” Jon asked, and yeah, okay. Not the reaction he was going for.

“No, I’m serious,” Spencer insisted.  “Haley’s my mate now. We did it last night.”

“Well damn….” Jon sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Well, neither could Spencer at this point.

“What!?” he snapped, defensive.

“Spencer, you know that’s, like, a huge deal, right?”

“Duh, I’m not stupid,” Spencer said, frowning. “What the hell? I thought you’d be happy for me.”

Jon laughed, and Spencer growled. Jon was being an asshole.

“Spencer, you’re seventeen…”

“I know how old I am,” Spencer scoffed, sitting up.

“You know that werewolves mate for life, right? This is a pretty serious decision.”

Spencer wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. “I knew that before we decided to do it, Jon.”

“How could you even… you’re just a kid, Spencer!”

It was Spencer’s turn to laugh, but when he did, it sounded mean. “Oh yeah, coming from you and your infinite wisdom, mister nineteen year old. Go preach to someone who gives a fuck.”

“This is a big deal, Spencer,” Jon said seriously.

“I know that!” Spencer practically yelled. “I know it’s a big deal, but we’re ready for it. We’re in love.”

Jon laughed again. “Oh my God. You’re in love, huh? You’ve been together, what? Six months? You’re just kids, Spence.”

“We know what we’re doing,” he growled.

“You’re puppies! I can’t believe you did this!” now Jon sounded mad. Spencer scoffed at his phone.

“You’re full of shit,” he hissed out, and then he heard a tired sigh.

“Spencer… I… I can’t even talk to you right now. I’ll see you around.” There was a click and then a beep that signified Jon had hung up on him. Spencer growled again and threw his phone across the back yard, leading up to an anticlimactic thump on the grass a ways away.  It wasn’t cathartic at all. He felt too big for his skin.

“I can’t believe him!” he roared, getting to his feet and crossing his arms over his chest. He started to pace. “Who does he think he is!? He doesn’t get to decide what I do.”

He kicked a clump of dirt and sent it flying. He felt like he wanted to punch a tree or something, or himself. He wasn’t willing to admit how much it stung that Jon didn’t approve of what he’d done. It was a big deal to Spencer. A huge deal. He had thought he made the right decision… No, he knew he made the right decision.  And who was Jon to tell him he hadn’t? He and Haley were in love, they were almost adults, and they had thought it through. Jon would just have to get used to it.

Just then he caught a glimpse of something moving in his peripheral vision, and spun around, just barely holding in a growl that threatened to rise up from his throat. There was a kid with shaggy dark hair standing there, on the other side of the fence to Spencer’s backyard, holding a pie and staring with wide eyes.

“Uhm… hi!” the kid waved a bit wildly with one hand, then looked slightly embarrassed and let it drop to his side. The kid looked to be Ryan’s age, maybe a bit older. Spencer couldn’t remember if he’d seen him around school or not. The boy squirmed a bit when Spencer didn’t answer him and blew some air into his cheeks to puff them up, then released it, looking at the ground. He looked up again. “Maybe this isn’t a good time?”

It really wasn’t a good time, and Spencer would have loved to shove that stupid pie in the kid's stupid face and kick him, but he also knew that he was feeling unreasonably mean and couldn’t actually do that to someone. Well, he might be able to do that, but he would probably be incredibly guilty afterwards.

“My mom sent me over with this!” The kid chirped, when Spencer still hadn’t said anything, or moved for that matter. He held up the pie. “It’s cherry! Do you like cherry? She makes really good pies, so even if you don’t like cherry, you might like this one. Chocolate is my favorite kind of pie though, but Kara says that chocolate pie isn’t really pie because it doesn’t have fruit in it, but Kara can’t even bake, so what does she know anyways. Kara's my sister, by the way. I have two sisters, but Kara's the nicer one, even though she's kind of mean, but I think that's a girl thing,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Brendon asked, unhooking the gate and letting himself into the backyard without permission. Spencer just watched him carefully. Was he supposed to remember this kid?

“I’m Brendon Urie!” he stuck his skinny arm out for a handshake, and Spencer reflexively shook it. He was raised to be polite. “Our moms do book club together. We’ve met a few times before.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember…” Spencer felt awkward. He pulled his hand back.

Brendon grinned at him and shrugged, bony shoulders going up and down under his t-shirt, then pushed his glasses up his wide nose, all in one smooth motion.

“Is your mom home?”

Spencer shook his head.

Brendon shifted the pie in his hands and bounced slightly on the balls of his feet. Spencer grinned despite his bad mood and Jon Walker.  Spencer was getting used to picking up people’s smell the way humans picked up tone of voice and body language, and this kid smelled like pie and nerves and happiness.  It was slightly infectious.

“You wanna come hang out for a while?” Spencer asked, motioning to the backdoor. Brendon seemed to think it over for a moment, and then shrugged.

“Better than going home.”  He offered Spencer a giant smile, and Spencer shook his head and laughed a bit under his breath. This kid was weird, and part of Spencer’s brain thought up the word ‘puppy,’ and then pushed it away. Spencer wasn’t thinking about Jon Walker and his stupid pet names, and this kid, Brendon, was a human anyways.

“Just let me grab my phone.”

**  
Brendon nodded and Spencer ran across the backyard to get it. When Spencer turned back around, Brendon had set the pie plate on the grass and was doing handstands. Spencer laughed.**


	2. Dripping Eyes and Flooded Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically everything starts to fall apart in this chapter, but it's super fun, you'll see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS UPDATED AND READY TO ROCK N ROLL

_Of course, this isn't just about werewolve coming out into the world, and these werewolf folk have to realize that.  The United States Consititution gives all men rights, but where does that leave these creatures?  Are they human?  Do they even have rights? What does this mean for health care?  Do werewolves need_ special _healthcare?  Are closeted werewolves on professional sports teams making the games unfair?_

 

_Society is built around humans, so the question here is, where do these creatures fit in?_

 

...

“You know, Spence,” Spencer’s dad cornered him after Brendon had gotten out of the car and run up the driveway to his own front door.  Mr.  Smith had given him a ride home, even though he only lived a few blocks away.  He’d insisted. Spencer’s dad was like that.  “Your mother and I talked about it, and we think it’s really nice of you to spend time with Brendon.  Your mom says that he doesn’t have a lot of friends.  So, what you’re doing is really nice, Spencer.”

Before that, Spencer hadn’t actually had any intention of spending time with Brendon again.  Sure, the kid was kind of funny and fun to be around, but he was also kind of weird and only fourteen.  He was practically an infant.  Sure, Ryan was fourteen too, but Ryan was different.  That was Ryan.

But Spencer also couldn’t just walk away from a guilt trip like that.  His father’s words were the reason Spencer had Brendon in his living room for the upteenth time weeks after that first significant day.

“Oh my God, shut up!” Spencer groaned, exasperated but laughing. He took a pillow off the couch and pressed it to his face.

“I can’t fight this feeeeeeeling anymoooooooore!” Brendon sang along to the tv, loud, flinging his arms out.

“R.E.O. Speed Waggon isn’t even good!” Spencer laughed.

Brendon let out a horrified gasp and crossed his arms.

“Spencer Smith!” he gasped out, sounding absolutely vindicated, and Spencer tried not to burst out laughing again. “That’s it!” Brendon declared. “We cannot be friends anymore. I request my number be removed from your cellphone and my memories from your heart.”

“Sit the heck down.” Spencer used his arm to knock Brendon’s legs out from under him from behind, and Brendon squeaked and fell on his ass.  He’d learned not to cuss around Brendon too much, because it always made him get all flustered and fidgety.

“I am being domestically abused!” Brendon giggled. Spencer took his pillow and shoved it into Brendon’s face. Brendon smacked him with it.

Spencer heard his phone buzz from across the room and ignored it. It wasn’t Jon, who hadn’t texted or called Spencer since their argument five days ago. Spencer pretended that he wasn’t dying slowly inside. It wasn’t Ryan, who had taken up some strange interest in Chuck Palanhiuk and had sold his soul to the local library. It had to be Haley, and Spencer wondered if he should feel bad for ignoring his girlfriend to hang out with a strange mormon kid who smelled like Cheetos.

“What do you think the meaning of life is?” Brendon asked randomly, now sprawled out on his back with the pillow under his head, staring solemnly at the ceiling. Spencer wondered how it was possible for Brendon to switch so quickly between emotions. At one moment, jumping around singing awful music, another pouting, and seconds later tranquil and thoughtful. The amount of different emotions clouding his scent up made Spencer feel slightly disoriented.  It was so confusing.

Spencer made a face at him. “42,” he said instinctively, recalling it from some tv show or movie or something, with a supercomputer who answered that question with that number.

Brendon punched Spencer in the leg. “Jerk. No, I’m serious,” He looked back at the ceiling, and his eye caught the clock on the way there.

“Oh my gosh is that the time!?” he demanded, jerking upright. “Oh gosh my dad is gonna kill me!” he leapt up from the floor. Spencer frowned at him, confused.

“It’s only six o’clock….” he said slowly.

“I have to go,” Brendon demanded. “I am so dead. I’ll see you.”  He haphazardly shoved his feet into shoes and practically fell out the front door. Spencer watched from the front window as Brendon sprinted out the street and out of sight and listened to his foot steps until he couldn’t hear them anymore.

“Weird fucking kid….” he said quietly to himself, then picked up his phone to text Haley until his mom called him to set the table for dinner.

**  
  
  
**

…

Spencer got used to Brendon coming over, hanging out, and then sprinting back home, usually before six o’clock. If it was after six, then there’d be a few Brendon-esque curses and Brendon would scramble frantically out of the house. Spencer started watching the time and reminding him.

Brendon wasn’t able to come over a whole lot. He wouldn’t explain why, but Spencer just shrugged and didn’t push. It wasn’t like Brendon was the only person he had to hang out with. Spencer had Ryan, who sulked a lot and wouldn’t step foot in Spencer’s house if Brendon was over, sending Spencer a lot of frownie face IM’s on his computer instead. Spencer told Ryan just to come over, hang out. Brendon wasn’t a bad guy, and he and Ryan were the same age anyways. They should hang out.

Ryan had rolled his eyes and continued to shut himself up in his own house.

Spencer determined that all fourteen year olds were emotionally unstable and couldn’t be comprehended.

“Did I used to be this annoying when I was fourteen?” he asked his mother while she sat at the table, cutting out coupons.

She’d put down the scissors to look up at him, patted his cheek, “Oh sweetie,” she said, “You still are.”

Spencer decided not to be insulted.

He did, however, decide to let himself mope a bit at the current state of his social life. He had two _children_  who were either giggling and jumping around or sulking at him and running away. He also had Haley, who was still wonderful, really, he couldn’t be happier with her. But he figured that girlfriends didn’t count as friends, and she couldn’t be around nearly enough to keep him from getting lonely. What Spencer really needed was to start talking to Jon again. He was lonely, with no one to text all the time about stupid stuff and eat gross, amazing pizza with and talk to about, like… werewolf puberty and how pinetrees smelled really, really good.

Spencer decided that he had to take the first step, because obviously Jon wouldn’t. He had picked up his phone and just about pressed call when his ringtone burst out of it. His heart jumped in his chest but… it was just Brendon. He thought about sending it to voicemail, just for a second, before sighing and answering.

“Sup B?” Spencer said, flopping back on the couch. His sisters were watching High School Musical, and no matter how much Spencer said he hated that movie, he really kind of didn’t…

“Hey….”  Something was kind of off about Brendon’s voice and Spencer frowned. “I uhm… can I come over?”

Spencer pushed himself off the couch and wandered into the kitchen, ignoring his sisters’ protests as he walked in front of the TV. Zac Efron didn’t take top priority when Brendon sounded like he was about to burst into tears.

“Of course,” Spencer said. “Yeah, come on over. Crystal and Jackie are totally hogging the living room, but we can hang out in my room or something.”

There was something that sounded like a sniffle. “Thanks.”

“B, are you okay?” Spencer asked, leaning back against the counter.

“Yeah,” Brendon said. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m great, I’ll see you soon,” and then he hung up. Spencer frowned at his phone. Brendon was being weird.

When Spencer opened the front door for Brendon, it was obvious there was something wrong with him. He was twitchy, but not in the way he was usually twitchy. He was picking at his sleeves and chewing on his lip, rather than bouncing slightly or drumming his fingers on his thigh.

“Hey….” Spencer said carefully, holding the door open for Brendon to step in. “Come on in.”

Spencer snagged two cokes out of the fridge and then Brendon followed him upstairs to his room. He dropped himself into his desk chair and spun around a bit, and Brendon sat on the edge of Spencer’s bed, rolling his can between his palms. Brendon wasn’t technically allowed to have coke, but he’d never turned it down before. Usually he’d have chugged half of it by now and be jumping off the walls, but he was just… still. He stared down at the can in his lap, and when he sighed, that was just too much.

“Okay, what the hell?” Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow. Brendon’s eyes darted over to him.

“What?”

“What the hell, as in, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re all… mopey. What happened?” Spencer asked, because seriously, Brendon had never been mopey in the month that Spencer had known him. Maybe that wasn’t long enough to make serious judgments about a person’s personality, but it felt like long enough. Spencer was nearly certain that there was definitely something wrong.

Brendon chewed at his bottom lip some more. “I just. I had to get out of the house…. Everyone was over, just.. hanging out. Like, most of the family. One of those days. And they got to talking about… like, it was on the news or something.” Brendon set his coke can on the ground, which was seriously concerning. Spencer was doing a decent job of turning Brendon into a caffeine junky, so this behavior was just off.

“Anyways,” Brendon let out a breath. “They all started talking about it and about how disgusting it was… and how… God.. They said they feel bad for them because they don’t know any better. They said the devil’s got a hold of them and that they just need to try harder.” Brendon’s breath came out shaky and he pressed his hands to his eyes for a moment. Spencer really wished he knew what the hell Brendon was talking about so that he could help.

“M-my dad said… he said that he’d never have… have a…. for a son,” Brendon swallowed hard. “And that those people needed the devil beaten out of them…” Brendon let out a little hiccup and pressed his hands tighter to his eyes. “He has no idea that he’s….”

“Bren…” Spencer said slowly, getting up and sitting next to Brendon on the bed. “Brendon, hey, it’s alright….”

“N-no it’s not!” Brendon dropped his elbows to his knees and hid his whole face in his hands. “It’s not alright. My family hates me, they just doesn’t know it yet… and… I’m trying so hard… But I can’t, Spencer. I can’t and I don’t know what to do.”

Spencer froze because Brendon was crying now, and he didn’t know how to handle that. He wrapped a hesitant arm around Brendon’s shoulders, and Brendon took that as some kind of invitation, because he buried his face in Spencer’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around him. Spencer had a lap-full of Brendon and he didn’t know how to get him to stop crying, so he just nuzzled Brendon’s hair gently with his nose and waited, breathing in the negative energy as it poured off of him.

Eventually, Brendon’s breathing got less shaky, and he wasn’t clutching so tightly to Spencer’s t-shirt anymore. Spencer smoothed Brendon’s hair back gently the way Spencer’s mom used to when Spencer got upset when he was little.

He remembered Jon telling him about the three roles in an actual wolf pack, and he thought grumpily that he’d probably be a nanny.

“B, I wanna help, but you didn’t actually tell me what’s the matter,” Spencer said carefully, petting Brendon’s hair. “What were they talking about that got you upset, Brendon?”

Brendon pulled away from Spencer and wrapped his arms around himself. “I can’t tell you….”

“Why not?” Spencer put his hand on Brendon’s shoulder and rubbed gently, but Brendon flinched away.

“You won’t like me anymore if I tell you,” Brendon said, and his voice was so small and sad. Spencer wanted to punch everyone who was making Brendon sound like that.

“Try me.”

Brendon glanced up at Spencer with these giant, sad eyes. “You have to promise to keep it a secret, okay? I’m serious. You can’t… you can’t tell anyone.”

“I promise,” Spencer said seriously. “I promise that I won’t tell anyone.”

Brendon fidgeted, eyes fixed on the floor. He closed them before speaking. “The news was talking about gays having the right to marry in different states.”  He opened his eyes and glancing sideways at Spencer.  Spencer could hear his heart pounding.

 

Spencer nodded slowly, “And you’re gay, Brendon?” The question felt incredibly awkward. Brendon flinched.

“I don’t want to be. I’m trying not to be. I’m trying really, really hard… but it’s not working. I just. I don’t want them to hate me.”  He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them. “And they don’t know yet, and maybe they’d be different if they knew. But when they get talking like that, it just hurts really really bad and it makes me feel sick. And I just… I’m a disgusting faggot, just like they said.”

Spencer frowned. “Brendon, don’t say that about yourself.”

“Why not?” Brendon sounded all snotty and muffled, hiding against his knees.

Frowning, Spencer scooted close to Brendon and wrapped his arms around him. “Because it’s not true, Brendon. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re not disgusting.”

“I just want to be good enough for them….” Brendon’s voice was small again, and it damn near broke Spencer’s heart.

“God damnit, B,” he sighed, and pressed a kiss to the top of Brendon’s head, not caring if it was too weird or intimate.  Brendon needed someone to show that they cared about him. “You’re good enough,” he said. “Even if they don’t see it, you’re good enough, okay?”

Brendon shrugged Spencer off and drew away from him, fidgeting again. “Do.. do you wanna play minecraft? I convinced my parents to let me play on the computer at home. I can totally show you my pet pig, now. It’s kind of amazing.” Brendon wiped his hands over his eyes and forced a smile. Spencer didn’t have it in him to push the issue when Brendon was trying so hard to look happy, so he just smiled.

“You’re on.”

Ten minutes into Minecraft had Brendon smiling again, and Spencer had totally forgotten about calling Jon.

**  
  
  
**

…

“Spencer!” he heard his mom’s voice coming from downstairs, but he was currently in the battle of his life, running away from five spiders which had accumulated right after Brendon had left to go home (Spencer hadn’t let him leave until he gave him a bonecrushing hug and told Brendon how great he was, that there wasn’t anything wrong with him, because obviously Brendon needed someone to tell him that. Spencer remembered being fourteen, and how awful it had been. He made up his mind to give Ryan a hug too, next time he saw him).  He couldn’t be bothered with going downstairs at the moment, not when he was down to two hearts. He’d finally, finally, finished his house, and he didn’t feel like starting over because a fucking spider killed him.

“Spencer James Smith!” Spencer actually jumped, hand hitting the keyboard. His error was enough for the spiders to descend, and then that was it. No more hearts and a black screen. Spencer groaned.

“I’m coming!”

When Spencer finally clomped down the stairs, his mom was on the phone in the kitchen. She motioned to the front door, now suddenly not wanting to talk while on the phone and be impolite, even though she’d been holding it to her chest and shouting just moments before. Spencer rolled his eyes and went to open the door, hearing his mom say, “I’m just very concerned….”

His mom was always concerned. It was kind of her thing.

Spencer tugged open the front door and… and there was Jon Walker. His mom really should have been concerned for her son at the moment, because he was about five seconds away from throwing up or having a panic attack.

Spencer heard the words, “...seemed to be incredibly upset…” behind him, and yeah, that basically sums it up.

“I’m going for a walk! I’ll be back soon!” Spencer shouted over his shoulder, before darting out of the house and pulling Jon off of his front porch by the arm. Having Jon at his house made him incredibly nervous, as if Spencer’s parents could take one look at Jon and know he was a werewolf.

Jon followed him easily.

“Nice time for you to show up.” Spencer had let go of him and crossed his arms. “Have a nice vacation from me, or do you need another month?”

“It goes both ways, Spencer,” Jon only sounded stern for a second, before he sighed and cuffed the back of Spencer’s neck gently. “I’m sorry, okay? I needed some time to think, and then I went home to visit my parents for a while. I just got distracted.”

Spencer was mad, yes, but Jon’s hand was warm and familiar, and he found himself leaning into the touch. He’d gotten used to it, and he’d missed it.

“You could have texted me,” his grumbling was half-hearted.

“You could have texted me, too,” Jon said. He was grinning again.

“I thought you were mad at me,” Spencer sighed and scuffed his shoe against the sidewalk.

“I’m not mad.” Jon squeezed gently and Spencer’s stiff shoulders relaxed. “I’m just worried about you.”

Spencer liked having someone besides his mom worrying about him, for once. Being the eldest sibling, hanging out with Ryan and Brendon, his friends from school, even Haley- everyone expected him to be the calm and in control one. Spencer was the one that talked everyone else down from cliffs and told them that snorting pixie sticks wasn’t a good idea and talked them through their problems. Spencer was the one his friends leaned on and he liked that, he really did, but he also got the feeling that if he tried to lean back it would crush them.

Jon could take it though. Jon had been there for the worst of it, the first night Spencer had been changed. Spencer figured that if Jon could take care of him when he was bloody and crying and disgusting, then Jon could probably take anything else Spencer had to throw at him.

“So the mates thing,” Jon said, letting go of Spencer and sticking his hands in his pockets. He started to walk and Spencer didn’t hesitate at all before following. “How’s that going for you?”

Spencer smiled a bit sheepishly. “It’s going good,” he said. He’d like to say that something was different, that they were more mature or planning on moving in together or something, but they weren’t. Everything was the same. They talked about college next year more than they talked about marriage or anything like that, but they had agreed they would both stay close, in state, to stay together. It made Spencer feel fluttery, thinking about it.

“Man, you’ve got it bad, huh?” Jon said, grinning at him. “Puppy loooove,” he sang out, bumping their shoulders together. Spencer laughed and bumped back.

“I know you don’t think it’s a good idea, but I’m glad we did it,” Spencer said.

Jon looked at him for a long moment before slinging his arm around Spencer’s shoulders. “So long as you’re happy,” he said. “You hungry?”

“Always,” Spencer gushed. Jon laughed, and they caught a bus to the mall, where they ate pizza and shared a can of coke at the tiny hidden restaurant. Really, all other pizza tasted awful in comparison.

**  
  
  
**

…

Ryan Ross had ducked out of the back door of his house and was about to go knock on Spencer’s, but he froze when he saw Spencer standing in the driveway with that guy… the one with the cool stubbly beard that Spencer knew from school. Ryan watched them hug and then head down the street together. Not knowing what else to do, he crept around the side of the house and watched them. There they went. Ryan sighed. A few of the times Spencer had hung out with that guy, he’d stayed out till almost midnight.

Glancing back at his house anxiously and deciding no, no way in hell was he going back in there tonight, he started walking down the street the opposite way Spencer had gone. He could have probably still gone to Spencer’s house. Mrs. Smith was always trying to hug him and feed him and adopt him and stuff, but it would be weird without Spencer there. He decided that if he walked far enough, his father would be passed out asleep by the time he got back.

Really, at this point, he didn’t have any other options. He pulled his hood up and set off down the street.

**  
  
  
**

…

Things were weird. Just as soon as Spencer got Jon back, he totally lost Brendon. Like, the kid just dropped off the face of the planet. Spencer IM’ed him, but the messages were never opened. He called Brendon’s house and no one answered. He was starting to get a bit concerned, after two weeks, because seriously, Brendon had been over to his house at least three times a week before, and now he was gone.

What if something happened?

Except Spencer had no idea what could have happened. All he knew was that Brendon was gone. He told Jon about it, and for the first time, Jon was useless. He didn’t know what to do either. He said that it was probably nothing, maybe Brendon got grounded or something, that Spencer needed to calm down.  Spencer called again, and finally, there was an answer.

“Who is this?” is what they said when the line clicked on.

Uhm.

“Uhm… this is Spencer Smith… Is Brendon there?” he scratched at the back of his neck and shifted around awkwardly.

“Brendon cannot come to the phone right now.”

“Oh….” Spencer chewed on his lip. “Could you.. uhm.. tell him I called and ask him to call me back?”

“Brendon is not allowed to use the phone,” the voice said. “Please don’t call again. Have a blessed day.”  The phone clicked off and Spencer blinked in confusion, listening to the dial tone. Well, he thought, shoot.

He told Jon about it, and Jon just ruffled his hair.

He said, “Told ya. Grounded,” and Spencer sighed.

Haley and Ryan, on the other hand, were chipper. Ryan sprawled himself out of Spencer’s bed and kicked the desk chair Spencer was sitting in. Spencer looked up at him and poked the bottom of Ryan’s foot. Ryan squirmed away, always ticklish.

“I miss having you around,” Spencer said. Ryan looked at him for a long moment, before scoffing and kicking Spencer’s chair again.

“I missed your mom,” he said. Spencer knew what he really meant though.

Later, when he was hanging out with Haley, she said, “I’m glad you’re not hanging out with that weird kid anymore.” She was talking about Brendon, of course. Because while she had met Ryan, and Ryan was definitely a weird kid, he didn’t bother her a whole lot. He wasn’t loud like Brendon was, and even though she had to deal with Ryan at school, it wasn't a big deal. He was quiet. Just give him a book, and he was gone for hours. No, she didn’t mind Ryan, but she didn’t appreciate Brendon cutting into her afterschool time with Spencer, especially since he was so… vibrant. She’d only met Brendon a few times in brief.  Each time Brendon had to give her a giant grin with a wave. Once he started a conversation with ‘Your hair is really pretty!’ and ending with ‘And that’s why dolphins are the coolest sea mammal!’ and then ran home. Spencer had to agree that Brendon was a little odd, but still.

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning.

Haley rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him, tucking herself into Spencer’s side and nuzzling his cheek. “Well, I couldn’t do this if he was here watching us, could I?” she asked.

Spencer smiled a little. “It might freak him out a little bit.”

“Mhm,” she said, wrapping her arm around him and setting her hand on his side, under his shirt. “You know what we should do?”

He had a few ideas. And so they did.

While Jon served well for great conversations, Haley was also pretty good at distracting Spencer from his problems. They didn’t get to do whatever they wanted all the time, but making out on Spencer’s bed was fun too.

**  
  
  
**

…

It was the first time that Brendon had been able to escape his house in two weeks. Having nowhere else to go anyways, he made a beeline to Spencer’s house, trying to think of a way to heroically punch Spencer in the face without crying because how dare he. Brendon was fidgety and extremely sensitive lately, so he wasn’t sure how well the not-crying plan was going to go, but he could try. It wouldn’t matter if he was crying or not so long as he broke Spencer’s nose, right? He thought about it for a moment before totally changing his mind. There was no way he could break Spencer’s nose, even if he was fast enough and hit hard enough. He couldn’t actually hit him. He didn’t want to hurt him.

Brendon was just a block away when he saw Spencer run out of the house and then down the street away from Brendon. He was curious and bored, so he followed. If it was creepy or stalkerish, well… he wasn’t actually stalking Spencer. He wasn’t going to kill Spencer in the woods or take pictures of him or whatever. He was just bored. And lonely.  And kind of mad.

He followed him.

His feet were starting to get tired after ten minutes, because Spencer was walking really fast and ugh. Where the heck was he going? Brendon was tempted to just call Spencer’s name and get his attention, but by this point, there was no way Spencer wouldn’t be able to tell Brendon had been following him, and then he would think Brendon was a creep and not want to be his friend anymore, and Brendon currently had enough people hating him at the moment, thank you very much. He kept his mouth shut. But seriously, he thought. Slow the heck down, Spencer. Geeze.

They were officially out of the more populated suburb areas now, and the road was completely lined with trees on either side, interrupted occasionally by a random house. Brendon didn’t know this area very well, but he was pretty sure there was a park somewhere around there. A park, and then follow the road about five or ten miles or something to the mall, he thought, but he couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t allowed out very much to explore. He just hoped he didn’t get lost on his way home.

There was a bend in the road, and Brendon watched Spencer disappear around it. When he followed him around (from a distance of course, he didn’t want to get caught) he had to freeze and do a double take. Spencer… wasn’t there. Which was weird. The road was straight on from there, so Brendon should have been able to see him. There’s no way Spencer would have been able to get down the road out of sight in just a minute. There’s no way. Brendon stood there for a moment, looking around mystified, but Spencer had officially vanished.

Brendon was bummed, and he would have complained out loud about it, but there was no one there to listen to him. He heard a twig snap somewhere close and he jumped, twitchy. The noise came from the woods, and Brendon stared into it for a moment before totally freaking himself out.

When another twig snapped, Brendon made some kind of squeaking noise in his throat, before turning and scrambling home, away from the freaky forest and vanishing Spencers.

**  
  
  
**

…

“Dude,” Jon said as soon as Spencer jogged up to the edge of the woods where they agreed to meet. “Decide you’re too cool for the moon or something?  You’re almost late.”

“Almost only counts in horseshoes and handgrenades,” Spencer replied.

“And nukes.”

“I was with Haley,” he said, shrugging and stuffing his hands in his pockets.  He watched the smile drop off Jon’s face before it was quickly plastered back on.  Of course Jon was still upset about that.  Lowkey upset, but upset nonetheless.  It was none of Jon’s business anyways, though, so Spencer was entitled to some button pushing.

“Make sure Haley wears a condom so you don’t get knocked up,” Jon said.  The words were mean, but he was smiling and didn’t have a trace of hostility in him, from what Spencer could sense.

Even so, he shoved Jon’s shoulder.  “You dick!” he laughed.

“At least I have one,” Jon countered.  His arm wrapped around Spencer’s neck as he tried to maneuver a headlock, and Spencer struggled against him, laughing.

“Alright, alright,” Zack said after a short while, pulling them apart as if it were sliding back a curtain, not pulling two strong, rambunctious werewolf boys out of a wrestling match. “Shut the fuck up and get naked already. The sun’s about to go down.”

Spencer wasn’t horribly surprised like he had been the first time he went out for moon night with Haley’s family.  They had promised it was no strings attached, that he wasn’t expected to join the pack or anything.  It was just so he wouldn’t be going out alone. It was nice of them, but seeing Mr. Heckenburg in all his naked glory was something that Spencer never wanted to repeat. Really, the night had been kind of awkward and horrible for all of them, and when Spencer told Jon about it, Jon just laughed and invited Spencer out with him and Zack for the next one.

This was his third moon night now, but it didn’t mean he was comfortable with being openly naked yet. Obviously he wasn’t cracked up to be in porn videos. He’d have to think of a new ‘just-in-case-college-fails-me’ career plan. That made Spencer laugh (giggle… whatever) out loud, and Zack poked him in the shoulder.

“Strip.”

Zack was pretty strong, and Spencer almost fell over into a snow bank.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He ducked behind a tree to take his clothes off and ignored Zack and Jon snickering at him. Whatever. He hid behind his tree and shivered until the sky got dark and the moon came out.  Then he emerged covered in fur in full wolf form and pounced on top of Jon, nipping at Jon’s shoulder. Jon growled and played with him, until Zack let out a growl that obviously meant ‘knock it off, puppies.’ They stopped chewing on each other and followed him into the woods. Yeah, definitely better than with Haley’s family.

They didn’t run into the Heckenburg pack. Apparently the wolf packs all got together and hashed out who owned which parts of the woods on moon nights, to prevent any conflicts. There were plenty of trees to share in Colorado.

Afterwards, Spencer wasn’t so nervous about being naked in front of them as he tugged his clothes back on and flopped down on the ground, too exhausted to care that snow was making his clothes wet. Jon said it got a bit less tiring after he got used to it, but not a whole lot. Spencer could have curled up right there under a tree and fallen asleep.

“C’mon, up you get.” Zack was actually able to lift Spencer completely off the ground and set him down on his feet without the slightest struggle. Spencer was kind of amazed. Even so, he was more tired than amazed, and he made a grumpy sound.

“I’m too tired to walk,” he complained, letting himself lean on the closest thing, which happened to be Zack’s side. Zack heaved a sigh.

“Fine, whatever, hop on then.”

Spencer nearly toppled over when Zack’s side was suddenly gone.  He opened his eyes and caught his balance. Zack was kneeling down in front of him, back to Spencer, and Spencer smiled wide and climbed onto Zack’s back.

“Fucking awesome,” he said, then yawned. Zack held onto Spencer’s legs and stood up.

“Yeah, whatever pup,” it sounded like he was smiling though, so Spencer just closed his eyes and nuzzled against the back of Zack’s shoulder. He fell asleep on the way back to Jon and Zack’s apartment, and he was too exhausted to even be embarrassed about it before he curled up wherever he was put down and fell back asleep.

A few hours later he woke up curled around Jon and blinked his eyes open, confused. Jon didn’t stir at all when Spencer pulled away from him, letting Spencer sneak easily out of the apartment and run back home. It was a Saturday, so he didn’t have to be anywhere. His parents were under the impression that Spencer had spent the night at Brent’s house and were surprised to see him home so early.  Spencer said something about Brent having Saturday school before yawning convincingly and retreating to his bedroom.  He curled up under the covers and fell asleep, and oddly, he had a dream about Jon.

**  
  
  
**

…

After Brendon’s sixteen day absence, he couldn’t really blame Spencer for looking so surprised when he opened the door on a Tuesday morning. Brendon had skipped seminary to do this, and if his parents found out they were going to kill him, but he really had to talk to Spencer.

Spencer was still in his pajamas- grey sweatpants too long for his legs, covering his feet, a black t-shirt with some band logo that Brendon had never seen before and probably wouldn’t be allowed to listen to if he asked. His hair was all messy and sticking up awkwardly.

“Uhm,” Spencer said, frowning and crossing his arms over his chest. “Good morning?”

“I really need to talk to you,” Brendon said, and he realized he was bouncing without meaning to so he stopped, picking at a hangnail instead.

Spencer blinked, reasonably confused. “Okay, shoot.”

Brendon bit his lip. He didn’t know how to start this conversation. Should he be mad? Yell at Spencer because how dare he tell? How dare he tell after he promised he wouldn’t? Did he have any idea how much he’d ruined Brendon’s life? He kind of wanted to burst into tears, but he also wanted to punch Spencer in the face. He did have control over himself though, so he just wrapped his arms tight around himself and took a deep breath.

“Why did you tell your mom?” he asked, staring at Spencer solidly and trying to look brave.

Spencer looked even more confused, which made Brendon frown. “Uhm… what?”

Brendon hugged himself tighter. “You told your mom and she told mine. You promised you wouldn’t, Spencer. What the hell?”

“What…” Spencer wrinkled his nose up. “What the hell are you talking about?”

That caught Brendon off guard. He squirmed a bit.

“Didn’t… you didn’t tell your mom?”

Spencer sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He was probably tired, Brendon realized.

“Tell my mom what, Brendon?” he sighed out.

Brendon squirmed some more. He didn’t want to make Spencer mad. He was supposed to be mad, not Spencer. That wasn’t really fair.

“You outed me,” Brendon said bluntly, going for all the marbles. “I told you I was gay, and then you told your mom, and she called by house, and now my life is totally ruined.”

Spencer looked genuinely surprised. “What? No I didn’t,” he said, arms dropping to his sides. “Brendon… oh my god, give me a minute to get ready? We’ll go somewhere and talk. Wait out here.”

Brendon nodded and sat down on the front porch steps. Looks like he was going to be late for school, but really, with all the other trouble he was in, why not? Spencer came running out of the house barely five minutes later, running a hand through his wet hair and spitting mouth wash out in the front yard.

“Come on, B.”  He grabbed Brendon’s wrist and pulled him away. They went to the Dairy Queen in-town to talk, but when they got there, Brendon found that he couldn’t really talk about what was happening.

“B,” Spencer had said, hands folded matter of factly on the semi-sticky table in front of them, looking Brendon in the eyes. “Is it bad?”

Brendon just shook his head and kept staring out the window. He reminded himself that it wasn’t his family’s fault that they were freaking out. He was the sick one. He was the one breaking the rules. He deserved to be punished for it. He shook his head again. “It’s not bad,” he said. “They’re a bit weird about it, sure, but nothing’s happening. They’re trying.” He looked at Spencer and gave him a big smile. If he kept smiling, he reasoned, nobody would be able to figure out what was wrong.  

Spencer wasn’t there for the arguing, the screaming, the way his mother just kept crying and one of his sisters wouldn’t even look at him, the way his father lead every nighttime devotion about sin and repentance, the way his brother had patted his knee and said ‘He didn’t mean to hurt you, Bren. He’s just trying to help.’ The way Brendon hadn’t gotten a decent night sleep since the day he came out to Spencer.  The way he felt stuck, miserable, and couldn’t seem to get out of it.

If he kept smiling, Spencer would have no idea. And for the most part, Spencer seemed to buy it.

He never actually went to school that day, but he magnificently didn’t get in trouble. As Kara explained to him later, she noticed he was missing and called Mason, who was late to his first class because he called Brendon’s school from outside his lecture hall and pretended to be their father. Sometimes Brendon really loved his family, who really were doing their best to help him.

They were trying. Brendon wished he could try hard enough to fix everything for them.

**  
  
  
**

…

When Ryan knocked on Spencer’s front door so they could walk to school together, it was Mrs. Smith who answered instead. She told him that Spencer had already left for school, asked him if he would like anything to eat, and sent him on his way with a bagel and an apple. Ryan didn’t like apples.

He didn’t like that Spencer had left without him either. He made up his mind to spend the entire day with his earbuds in and not acknowledging Spencer Smith in the hallways. See how he liked being shut out or forgotten about.

He also made up his mind to pretend like it didn’t hurt, even though it felt like a stone in his stomach. If he kept music in his ears and his nose in a book, maybe he’d forget about Spencer fucking Smith, his not-so-best friend, and his stupid fucking face.

Ryan was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t heartbroken. He told himself that Spencer was allowed to have other friends. Spencer was allowed to spend time with other people. Why would he want to spend time with a stupid freshman anyways, when he was a senior? Spencer had better things to do, but… shit. He could have at least warned him first. Or maybe taken a moment to tell Ryan about his new friends and his new life that had him sneaking out at night and skipping school. For the longest time, the Smiths had felt like a new family for Ryan. He had sisters that he had to share the TV with and a mom who made sure he was eating and a dad who ruffled his hair and tried to talk to him about sports, and most importantly Spencer, who was so much like an older brother for Ryan that it hurt to be shut out like this. He knew they weren’t his real family, but sometimes if nobody was paying attention, he liked to pretend. It had just started about six months ago that Ryan had been spending the night frequently at Spencer’s house, sleeping on the Smith’s couch, and it had actually felt like things could start getting better, maybe. But now… Ryan couldn’t focus all day in school and failed two quizzes.  It wasn’t fair, really.

**  
  
  
**

…

Spencer had the house all to himself. He’d faked a bad headache, and thus got to stay home from the "super fun family day" (he wasn’t sorry to miss it at all, really) with his grandfather. He had the whole house to himself for the whole day, and when he called Haley, she seemed to know exactly what he had in mind.

It was going to be awesome.

Spencer took the time to shower, cause girls liked clean guys, right? He even used his sisters coconut body wash stuff, because she wouldn't notice if just a little bit was missing, and it smelled really good. Maybe Haley would be into that, or maybe she would laugh at him. Either outcome was a-o-kay with Spencer.

He tidied his room up too: picking things up off the floor, throwing laundry in the laundry room, stacking CDs, changing the sheets. Spencer was a gentleman.

When Haley got there, he greeted her with a warm hug. Haley gave the best hugs ever. Usually when she came over it was a lot like hanging out with Brendon or Ryan or Jon. They would joke around and talk and play video games. The only difference was that hanging out with the guys never lead to making out, and it certainly never lead to what Spencer was pretty sure both of them were planning on doing (Spencer was crossing his fingers and wishing for a blowjob, if nothing else. the world of sex was still kind of new and exciting to him. it fucking rocked).

The only problem was Haley was acting weird. She didn't joke around the way she usually did, and she seemed distracted.  She’d been ignoring Spencer’s texts and spending her lunch periods in the library with the yearbook committee for the last week or so, but Spencer just figured she was busy.  But she had just let Spencer win three rounds of the game they were playing without any protesting or name calling. Spencer could smell that she was sad, and when he hugged her, it didn't change. It got worse. That had never happened before.

"What's wrong?" he asked her. They had given up on video games and had Family Guy on the tv. They'd both been sitting there tensely and pretending to watch it, but neither of them actually were. "You're sad,"

"I'm not sad, I'm-"

"Yes you are," he said quickly. Part of the heightened werewolf senses meant that they weren't capable of lying to each other. The change in heart rate gave them away quicker than anything.

"Spencer," she sighed. "I just. I have a lot on my mind."

Spencer chewed on his bottom lip. "Talk to me about it," he said, putting his arm around her. "You know you can tell me anything, Haley. What's wrong?"

There was a super long pause, where Spencer stared at Haley and Haley stared at the floor.

Finally she let out a deep breath and said, "I think we need to break up."

Spencer didn't know the floor could drop out from under him that quickly.

"You... What...?" He asked, drawing his arm back to himself. She what? That wasn't... How could she... But....

"Haley, what the hell are you talking about?"

"This isn't working for me, Spencer. You're a really nice guy, but.. I can't do this," she said. Spencer couldn't understand what she was saying.

"I think we should date other people," Date? Date!? What was she talking about?

"We're mates," he said, mouth gone dry. Why was she doing this to him?

"It's not a forever thing... We're so young..."

"Werewolves mate for life," he said. "You said that. You told me that..."

"I can't be tied down to you for the rest of my life. Next fall we'll both be going to college."

"Colorado state," he said instantly. "We both got accepted there. We agreed to go there..."

"I got accepted to SCU," she said. She wouldn't look Spencer in the eye. "I'm going to California after graduation."

"But..." We can still make this work, he thought. Long distance relationships could work. They were mated. This had to work.

"Its over, Spencer," she said.

"You said we were ready," he said. "We agreed we were ready for this. To be just you and me. For life. That's what you said."  He took Haley's hand like a plea. Don't give up on this. Don't do this to me.

She pulled her hand away. "I was wrong, Spencer. We're too young to make that kind of major decision. I was wrong, and it's not fair to either of us to keep up this charade."

Charade? He thought.  Fair?  What she was doing wasn't fair to him. Not at all.

"But..." He felt himself getting choked up but refused to cry. "I love you…." His voice broke on the last word, and she sighed, standing.

"I'm done."  She shook her head.

"Did you meet someone else?" He asked, standing, shouting. Suddenly angry. "Is that it?"

"No."  She turned to him. "I didn't meet anyone else. I just can't stay with you." That statement stung. He kind of wished she had found another guy. Somehow that would have been easier to take.  "I still love you, Spence, I just-"

"Save it," he snapped, clenching his fists. "If you're done with me, then you can leave."

She didn't move. "Spencer, I…."

"Leave!" He shouted, stepping forward. He knew what was happening. He felt it in his eyes and his teeth, in the claws forming on his hands and the hair on the back of his neck.

She didn't flinch back at all, just stared him down solidly, glaring now, eyes glowing.

"You touch me, and I'll tear you to shreds," she growled out. "Puppy." It felt like she spat it out at him. Like an insult. Not the way Jon said it. Haley matched his glare for what felt like a long time, not giving in. Eventually she growled, deep and menacing. Spencer couldn't take it anymore and dropped his gaze. Submission.

"I'm really sorry, Spencer," she said solidly without any inflection. "I'll see you around."

"Don't count on it."  It came out as a mutter under his breath, and he stared down at the carpet until he heard the front door close, and then she was gone.

**  
  
  
**

…

Brendon sat at the piano bench and tapped out a familiar melody that his fingers remembered without him having to think about it. Around him, his family was bustling around getting ready to go to temple. He should have been too, but he was trying to see if, maybe if he just kept playing and didn’t move, they’d just forget about him and leave him there. Like in Home Alone. That was a good movie. Brendon had to remember to watch that again.

“For the last time, Brendon, march yourself upstairs and get ready. We’re going to be late,” his father said, coming over and snatching the sheet music off the piano. Jokes on him, Brendon wasn’t playing off the papers. It probably pissed his dad off pretty well when the piano kept tinkling out a melody, completely undisturbed. He sighed.

“I don’t want to go,” Brendon said, still playing.

“Well that is just too bad, now isn’t it?” he said. “You’re going, and you’re liking it, and- Would you stop playing that and listen to me?”

“Would you rather I played this instead?” Brendon asked, switching easily from whatever he’d been playing- he couldn’t even remember the name of the song- to an old church hymn. He liked this hymn. It was pretty.

“Brendon Boyd Urie, you have three seconds to get your butt upstairs and ready,” his father grumbled out. Brendon knew that a month or so ago, that tone of voice would have sent him scrambling up the stairs to get ready. Immediately. Before certain doom descended. But somehow at this point, it barely phased him.

“Why should I go to church if I’m already damned?” he asked, tone even, focused on the piano. This really was a pretty hymn.

His father sighed. “Brendon… don’t even start with that now.”

“I’m not going to church.”

“Excuse me?” his dad sounded pretty close to snapping, but Brendon felt like pushing buttons today. “I don’t believe that I gave you the option.”

“And I don’t believe you heard me,” Brendon responded. “I’m not going. They don’t want a fag there anyways.”

“Three seconds is up.”

Brendon yelped when his father grabbed him by the ear and tugged him off the piano bench.  “Go to your room and get dressed, and be quick about it, young man, we’re already late,” his dad said, letting go and crossing his arms at Brendon. Brendon rubbed at his ear.

“I’m not going,” Brendon repeated, locking his jaw. He wasn’t sure why this argument was so important to him, but… he wasn’t ready to get all dressed up to go to a place full of people that hated him and listen to shit he didn’t believe in and… He just really didn’t want to do this. “I don’t want to.”

“Brendon Boyd-”

“No!” Brendon cut his father off. “You can’t make me!”

The back of Mr. Urie’s hand cracked against Brendon’s face so fast that he didn’t even see it coming, and it was hard enough that it actually knocked him down. He put his hand up to his face because ow. Seriously, ow. He’d never been hit that hard before. His face was wet. Was he bleeding? How was he bleeding? He looked up at his father in total shock, and Mr. Urie grabbed him by his upper arm and yanked him to his feet.

“Now go,” he ordered, propelling Brendon towards the staircase with a solid swat on his ass.

Brendon tripped over his own feet and then spun around. “Fuck you!” he screamed. He then ran up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him, slammed his bedroom door closed, and leaned against it with all his weight. He could hear his father yelling from downstairs, and he listened, ear pressed against the door. If he came up stairs, Brendon decided he would jump out the window.

“Boyd? What is going on in here?” That was his mother.

“That little brat-”

“Dad! Dad leave him, we’re going to be late, let’s just go.” Mason had stepped in, and was probably guiding their dad to the door. “We can deal with this later. Everyone needs to calm down.”

“What that boy needs is a-” And then the front door slammed closed, and Brendon couldn’t hear anymore. He whispered a quiet thank you to Mason and slid down to sit on the floor, back against the door. He was so mad that he was shaking. He waited until he heard the van pull out of the driveway before picking himself up off the floor and getting dressed. He didn’t want to be home when his family returned in a few hours.

He cracked his door open barely and listened, making sure the coast was entirely clear. As soon as he knew it was, he ran out of the house.

**  
  
  
**

…

:(

don’t cry child. tell jon your worries.

cn i cum ovr?

aren’t you grounded?’

idc

you bad boy, you. alright, I’m home.

b there soon

don’t threaten me puppy;)

Smiling despite himself, Spencer wiped his face on his sleeves.  His mouth corners were just barely turning up because Jon was funny. He couldn’t help himself. But even that wasn’t enough to make Spencer not want to kick things and cry and throw up and sleep forever. He barely had his feet into shoes when he was out the front door and throwing himself off the porch steps. His knuckles were bloody from where he’d punched a wall. It was in his bedroom, and it would take a while before his parents noticed the damage, but he still had to repair it.  The violence didn’t fix anything.  It just made him more miserable.

Break up? How could they break up? Werewolves mate for life. That sentence kept repeating itself over and over again in Spencer’s head. They’d been together for nine months- almost a year. They were in love; he knew they were in love. Or, he knew that he was in love, at least. Haley said that she was, but…

His throat hurt and he wanted to cry again, but he also didn’t want to. He’d cry to Jon maybe. Give Jon the satisfaction of being right. Maybe Jon wouldn’t even be sympathetic. Maybe he’d be a total asshole about it. Spencer wouldn’t be able to be mad at him if he was. He kind of deserved it.

He wasn’t good enough for Haley.

He wasn’t good enough for anything.

Spencer wondered how someone who was so perfect could do something this mean. Didn’t she care about him as much as he did for her? How could she do this to him?

He wasn’t even out of his driveway when he heard Brendon’s voice calling his name. “Spencer! Hey! Spence, wait up!”

Spencer super did not need this shit right now. “Fuck off, Brendon,” he growled out, shoving his hands into his pockets and heading down the street.

“Where are you going?” Brendon asked, and Spencer heard him running to catch up. If he’d been paying attention, he would have noticed that Brendon smelled totally upset, and also, he was bleeding, but he wasn’t paying attention, so he didn’t notice. He was sick of taking care of other people.

“I’m really not in the mood, Brendon,” he said. “Go away.”

“No.” Brendon almost seemed to laugh as he said it. Which Spencer would have noticed was weird, had he been paying attention, since Brendon smelled so upset. He finally caught up and walked next to Spencer, and then he frowned. “Spencer, you’re crying….”

“No I’m not,” Spencer said, wiping at his cheeks. He wasn’t crying, and even if he was, he didn’t need little kids to tell him about it.

“Spencer? What’s the matter?” Brendon sounded scared, but Spencer didn’t actually care.

“Brendon!” he snapped. “Just fuck off! I don’t want to talk to you! Leave me alone!”

Brendon blinked, heartbreak written all over his face, and just stared at Spencer, who actually didn’t have time for this. He turned and stalked off, hoping that Brendon had gotten the message, and would finally leave him alone. The universe obviously hated him, though, because Brendon was following him.

“Spencer, come on! Just tell me what’s wrong!” Brendon pleaded.

Fine, Spencer thought.  If Brendon wanted to play this game, then he would. He took off as fast as he could, hoping to lose Brendon in the dust, but his foot slipped on the ice and Brendon grabbed onto Spencer’s arm before he had the chance to get away.

Spencer couldn’t stop himself and didn’t even realize what was happening. He had spun around, and he was shorter.  Everything prickly and sore.  He was lunging forward, and then Brendon was screaming.

Spencer was back in human form in an instant, on top of Brendon on the ground. Brendon was gaping, wide eyed and trembling, staring at his forearm, which was bleeding really really bad. Brendon’s mouth was hanging open and he was shaking under Spencer.

“Brendon…” Spencer said carefully, picking himself up slowly while he felt himself panic. What had he done? Holy shit.. what had he just done? “Brendon, I am so sorry.”

“G-get away from me!” Brendon yelled, scrambling away, clutching his arm to his chest. “Y-you. You just. I….”

“Brendon, it’s okay. It’s okay, we can fix this.”  He got up and helped Brendon to his feet. Brendon jerked away from Spencer immediately. Tears streaked down his cheeks and he was trembling all over.

“Let me help you,” Spencer said, stepping forward.

“Get away from me!” Brendon screamed again, jerking back. He swayed on his feet for a moment, but then his eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled. Spencer cursed and caught him.

“Okay,” he said to himself, adjusting Brendon in his arms. “Okay. Now you’re unconscious. Okay. This is great.”  Spencer swore again when he almost dropped Brendon. “Think, Spencer,” he told himself, and then he thought. He’d take him to Zack. Zack would know what to do.

“Okay, okay Brendon, it’ll be okay,” He texted Jon SOS as best as he could with one hand. He scooped Brendon up bridal style, bloody arm pinned between their bodies, other arm swinging limp, and took him to Jon and Zack’s apartment as fast as he could manage.

The route was through the woods and back alleyways, scrambling as fast as he could and peeking around corners to make sure the coast was clear.  Spencer didn’t feel like being seen carrying a bloody unconscious kid and getting arrested.  That would be kind of hard to explain to his parents, as well as Brendon’s parents.  Finally, finally he got to the apartment building.  He broke the lock on the front door and sprinted up the five flights of stairs to the apartment.

“Zack! Zack! Open the door!” Spencer yelled, kicking repeatedly at the door since he didn’t have a hand free to knock. He was tired from carrying Brendon’s dead weight around (not literally dead, unless… Oh my God, what if he’d killed Brendon!?). “Zack! Open the fucking door!” Spencer’s voice was on the verge of desperation, but at least the door flew open.

It was Jon. His eyes widened immediately when he saw Spencer.

“Well damn, what happened?” he said, throwing open the door and pulling Spencer into the apartment. Spencer let Jon take Brendon from him and stood there numbly. “You said ‘SOS’ but I didn’t think you meant literally!”

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it. But he passed out and he won’t wake up and-”

“Zack!” Jon yelled out, carrying Brendon to the couch and setting him down carefully. “We have a problem here!”

“What the hell is all the yelling for?” Zack grumbled, entering the room. He was dressed in pajamas.

Jon was crouching down next to Brendon and feeling for a pulse in his throat, laying his head against Brendon’s chest to check for breathing and a heartbeat.

“He’s breathing,” Jon said. “Zack, get the first aid kit, this is a lot of blood.”

Zack sprang into action, coming in with the first aid kit and a wet cloth. He nudged Jon out of the way and did his thing, pressing the rag to Brendon’s forehead and cleaning the bite on Brendon’s arm. He used a large bath towel to catch the blood.

“Where’d you find him?” Jon asked, looking over at Spencer.

“Spencer didn’t find him.” Zack looked up at Spencer with a glare that could have killed. “You bit him.”

“I didn’t mean to! I am so sorry, it just… It was an accident-”

“Sit down and shut up.” Zack pointed to a nearby chair. “I will deal with you in a second.”

Spencer sat.

Jon was smoothing Brendon’s hair off of his face and patting his cheek. “Wake up, kiddo. Come on. Wake up for me.”

Brendon whined and blinked his eyes open, and then jerked back violently.

“Shhh, shh it’s okay,” Jon said, soothing him. He kept petting Brendon’s hair back. “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you, I promise. What’s your name?”

“Who are you?” Brendon said, breathing way too fast, chest heaving. He was probably going to hyperventilate and pass out again. He looked around wide eyed at everything all at once.

“I’m a friend of Spencer’s. My name is Jon,” he said, talking slow and using this really gentle voice that seemed to be calming Brendon down ever so slightly. “Can you tell me what your name is?”

“B-Brendon…” he said, trembling. He glanced at Spencer, looking panicked.

“How old are you, Brendon?” Jon asked.

Brendon swallowed hard. “Almost fourteen.”  He watched Zack patching up his arm and whimpered.

“Shh, hey, it’s alright,” Jon said. “Zack and I are gonna take care of you, okay? How are you feeling?”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Brendon did look pretty green.

“Spin, there’s a bucket under the kitchen sink.”

Spencer was immediately on his feet and returned with the bucket just in time, because as soon as he set it in front of Brendon, Brendon emptied his stomach into it. Jon sat on the couch next to him and rubbed the back of his neck, reassuring him that he was okay and that this happened sometimes, DNA makeovers were a bitch, he’d be okay. Brendon just kept trembling and whimpering, occasionally throwing up.

On the other hand, Zack got up and glared Spencer down, causing Spencer to slump back into his chair and glance up at him nervously, guiltily.

“You had better have a good explanation for this,” he said.

Spencer, at least, wasn’t crying like he had been earlier. That was humiliating.  Maybe he was in shock. He was having the worst recorded day of his life ever, coupled with giving Brendon what was probably the worst recorded day of his life, and he couldn’t stop his breathing from shaking.

“It was an accident,” Spencer said, ducking his head down. “I was mad and he kept following me, and I didn’t mean to….”

“And you bit him,” Zack said, accusing.

“I didn’t mean to,” Spencer insisted.

“What the hell could he have done that got you that upset, Spencer? What kind of explanation can you give for this?”

Spencer put his elbows on his knees and hid his head in his hands. “I didn’t mean to,” he repeated miserably. “I really, really didn’t. I would never hurt him on purpose.”

Jon had gone to the kitchen to get Brendon a glass of water, but when he came back, Brendon was slumped over sideways, passed out again. He sighed.

“Zack,” he said, setting the water down. “Is it okay if I talk to Spencer about this?” He walked over. “Yelling at him isn’t going to help; you’re scaring him to death. Can you tuck Brendon into my bed to sleep it off and I’ll take Spencer for a walk?”

Zack glanced between Jon and Spencer and then nodded. He pointed his finger at Spencer. “I am preparing the world’s biggest lecture for when you get back,” he threatened.

Jon looked Spencer over for a second, and then pulled off the flannel shirt he was wearing over his t-shirt. “Take that bloody shirt off and put this one on,” he said, thrusting the thing out to Spencer, who took it and did as he said. “Don’t want to have the cops called on us while we’re out.”

Jon took Spencer’s arm and tugged him up and out of the apartment. Spencer hoped that Brendon was okay while he was gone, but really, Spencer wasn’t doing that great of a job taking care of him lately anyways. He went with Jon, who didn’t say a word to him until they got to their destination: the pizza place at the mall. By that point, Spencer was even more miserable and not hungry. Jon ordered two slices of pizza anyways. Neither of them touched their food when it arrived.

“I’m really sorry,” Spencer whispered after a while, breaking the silence.

Jon sighed. “That’s not gonna fix anything, Spin. But… we’ll help him, okay? He’ll be alright. It’s just scary right now. He’ll be okay,”

Spencer nodded and slid his pizza away from him. He couldn’t eat with the lump in his throat.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Jon asked, taking a sip from the can of coke in the middle of the table.

“I didn’t mean to bite him.” He felt a headache starting to throb behind his eyes. “I was upset and he wouldn’t leave me alone, and he grabbed my arm, and the next thing I knew….” He buried his face in his hands. “Oh my God.”

“What happened to make you upset?” Jon asked, and it felt like he was looking right through him. As if there wasn’t a single detail that Jon was missing here. Spencer didn’t know if he liked feeling transparent.

He picked his head up from his hands and squirmed a bit in his seat, tears swimming in his eyes.  He hated them. “Haley broke up with me,” he admitted quietly.

Jon was seriously the master of sympathetic faces. “Oh Spencer…” he said, getting up and sliding into Spencer’s side of the booth, his arms around him instantly. “Well damn, puppy, I’m so sorry.”

Well there it was. Spencer was crying again. He tried to pull away, but Jon just hugged him tighter, so Spencer buried his face in Jon’s shoulder and cried. It was totally gross crying, all tears and snot, making Spencer’s breath hiccup. Jon didn’t seem to mind, though. He ran his fingers through the hair on the back of Spencer’s head and held him for a long time- long enough for their pizza to get cold.

The entire time, he didn’t ever say ‘I told you so’ and Spencer was really quite grateful for that.

**  
  
  
**

…

“No!” Brendon yelled as soon as the front door open. Spencer totally didn’t jump, and Jon totally didn’t either, looking curiously into the apartment because what the hell?

Brendon was obviously feeling better. He was in the living room with Zack, both of them holding game controllers and staring intently at the TV. Brendon was perched up on his knees, slamming at the buttons with his thumbs and staring wide eyed at the screen. Zack looked focused but tranquil.

“Oh no!” Brendon shouted, leaping onto his feet to stand on the couch. “Nononono! Oh hell nah! That is not fair! How did you do that!? Oh my gosh! No! Oh my gosh no! Mercy! Don’t! Nononono- ah man!” Brendon landed back on his ass on the couch, arms crossed and pouting as the TV crowed ‘KO! Player 1 Wins!’

“You cheated,” Brendon pouted, nudging Zack with his foot. Zack poked at his foot until Brendon giggled and tucked it under himself. “Stahhhhhp.” Zack smirked, triumphant.

“Looks like someone’s feeling better,” Jon said, nudging Spencer into the apartment and closing the door behind him. Spencer hung out by the door as Jon crossed the room and flopped down on the couch next to Zack. To be honest, Spencer was kind of scared. Brendon was going to be so pissed at him, and it wasn’t that he was scared of Brendon (no, that was ridiculous).  He just wasn’t entirely sure how to handle this situation. Spencer had been furious when Haley changed him. He didn’t really know what to do about Brendon.

“Okay, little man, ready for round two?” Jon asked, picking Brendon’s game controller off the floor and handing it to him, while taking Zack’s for himself.  Brendon looked at Jon and grinned.

“You’re on!”

Zack must have taken that as his signal to leave, because he got up and crossed the room to Spencer, who was still hanging out by the door. Spencer wanted to talk to Zack even less than he wanted to talk to Brendon, because unlike Brendon, Zack was actually kinda scary.

“Let’s talk,” Zack said, motioning and then walking over to a door. Damn. Spencer figured he didn’t have much choice but to follow him down the hall to the door, even if he didn’t want to. He went unwillingly into a room when Zack opened the door for him. It was a bedroom.

“So we’ll have some privacy to talk,” Zack explained as Spencer looked around hesitantly. “This is Jon’s room.”

That made sense, Spencer thought, looking around. The room was messy, yet at the same time uncluttered, which reminded Spencer of Jon. The sheets on his bed were blue and brown, like the sky and chocolate. Jon’s eyes were chocolate too.

There were magazines on the floor near the bed, spilling off of the night stand. CDs were piled haphazardly on the desk with a few very worn soft-cover books. Jon must have been the kind of person who read books over and over again.

Spencer sat on the edge of the bed, and Zack stayed standing, leaning against the wall next to a pinned up polaroid of a cat. Since Zack towered over him anyways, sitting while the man was standing was making Spencer feel very small.

“Brendon woke up about half an hour ago, and I got as much out of him as I could. I’d like to hear it from your point of view because his story was… hard to follow….”

Spencer nodded, understanding. “He talks a lot. It can be a bit exhausting….”

“His spirits are significantly higher now, though he won’t explain why he went over to your house or what happened to his face. I thought he might have scratched it when he fell, but… he’s acting suspiciously nervous about it.”

“He was bleeding before,” Spencer said, remembering. “He was upset….”  He frowned, thinking. “I don’t know what was wrong. I wouldn’t stop to listen….”

“You were upset too.”

Spencer glanced up to find Zack staring at him steadily, and he dropped his head again, gaze on his feet. “No I’m not,” he mumbled.

Zack actually laughed, letting out a chuckle which made Spencer scowl. Shut up. “You are a shitty liar, kid. Damn. You know I could just ask Jon. He’ll tell me.”

“Ask him then,” Spencer growled, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling at the floor. Zack sighed heavily.

“Fine. We have something else to talk about then,” he said. The bed dipped next to Spencer when Zack sat down. “Look at me, Spencer.”

Spencer didn’t actually want to, thank you very much. He kept his eyes on the floor and refused to acknowledge Zack. He figured Zack was going to yell at him or something. He knew that he fucked up. He didn’t need to be told.  

“Spencer,” Zack repeated sternly, and Spencer’s eyes flicked up to Zack. He couldn’t help it. “We don’t have to talk about what happened, but we should talk about what happens next.”

Spencer frowned, glancing down before glancing back up again. “What happens next?”

“Brendon is a werewolf now, and I know you’re still very new to this, but you changed him, and you’re his friend, so he’s your responsibility,” Zack said. “You have to look out for him and take care of him.”

“I’ve been trying to look out for him already,” Spencer said.

“It’s different now. When a wolf is changed, it’s very important that they have another werewolf to watch over them and help them through the new changes. Even if a wolf lives in a pack, they still need to be bonded with someone. Usually it’s the person that changed them, but sometimes….” Zack grinned at Spencer.

Spencer didn’t know what Zack was grinning about and  bit his lip. “What happens if the person you’re bonded with gives up on you?” he asked, and then Zack looked positively perplexed.

“What are you talking about?”

“Haley…” he said quietly, head down again. “She… she’s gone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Zack said, frowning. He put his arm around Spencer and squeezed his shoulder. It reminded Spencer of something his dad would do. He felt tears welling up in his eyes again and wished they would go away. “You pups were mated, weren’t you? It’s a very hard thing, to lose a mate. It’s good that you weren’t bonded as well then.”

Spencer looked up at him, blinking in confusion and causing a few tears to fall down his cheeks. “What?” he asked.

Zack smiled and squeezed Spencer’s shoulder again. “Jon got to you first, kid. C’mon, up ya get. You need to talk to Brendon.”

Spencer let Zack tug him up and steer him out of the room with a firm hand on his shoulder. He didn’t mind Zack guiding him around much. It was kind of nice. When they got to the living room, Brendon was laying upside down on the couch watching Jon play guitar hero. He was also singing along, kicking his feet in the air, quite red in the face from hanging upside down. When they saw Zack and Spencer come in, Jon paused his game, and Brendon met Spencer’s eye for a long moment, staring at him like he wanted to say something. Spencer forced himself not to look away.

He cleared his throat. “H-hey B. How ya feeling?”

Brendon immediately tumbled off the couch, scrambled to his feet, and threw himself at Spencer, wrapping his arms tight around the older boy. Spencer gaped down at him (Brendon was tiny, so Spencer had to look down at him) and hesitantly hugged back, looking at Jon with wide eyes as if Jon might help him out. Jon just chuckled and shook his head.

Brendon squeezed Spencer so tight that he almost couldn’t breathe. “You scared me to death, you asshole.” Brendon continued hugging Spencer while simultaneously punching him repeatedly in the arm, and it actually kind of hurt.

“Ow! Shit, B, knock it off!” Spencer tried to pull away, but Brendon was unrelenting, so that when Spencer tripped on the edge of the carpet, it sent both of them crashing down.

“Ow,” Spencer said again. “Damnit, Brendon.”

“Be in pain,” Brendon grumbled, snuggling into Spencer’s chest and clinging onto him much like a monkey. “You bit me. You deserve it.”

That statement made Spencer really sad, but he knew from the forced cuddling that Brendon couldn’t be too mad at him. That made things better, somehow.

“Get the fuck off me,” Spencer complained, squirming. Brendon just snuggled tighter, nuzzling Spencer’s neck, which caused Spencer to make gagging noises and push Brendon off. They ended up wrestling on the floor, all knees and elbows and smushed faces and loud complaining.

Jon laughed from his position of safety on the couch, while Spencer gave up and consented to Brendon snuggling up on top of him. Brendon was so weird. And so gay.  That really shouldn’t have been a big surprise, in retrospect.

“Don’t you just love puppies?” Jon asked.

Spencer heard the ‘thump’ that meant Zack hit Jon with a pillow.

**  
  
  
**

…

Zack and Jon didn’t ask Spencer or Brendon when they were going to leave, so neither of them bothered to consider going home. It was late evening when it finally came up.

“Brendon,” Jon said, over a dinner of delivery pizza they were eating at the kitchen table, cleared off for the first time in months. “Won’t your parents be wondering where you are, bud?”

Swallowing his bite of pizza, Brendon set his slice down on his plate and looked at the table with great intent, suddenly slightly pale. “Oh. Yeah I guess… they might….”

Jon frowned, and every pair of eyes at the table settled on Brendon, who squirmed uncomfortably.

Brendon had almost totally forgotten what had happened just that morning, and he’d rather not think about it too much. His family would have gotten back from temple quite a while ago, and they must have been surprised to find Brendon missing. He was already in trouble, being missing would just mean more trouble… maybe not going home tonight wouldn’t be the worse thing he could do… He was already in trouble. How much worse could it really get?

“I was wondering.” Brendon squirmed a bit, not knowing if he was totally imposing and being impolite, but… “Could I. Uhm… maybe. Like, it’s totally cool if you say no. That’s alright. I don’t want to be rude or anything. It sucks when people are rude and they don’t know they’re being rude and the other people around them are just like ugh oh my god get this kid out of here he’s so annoying, but I get that response a lot, I mean, I talk a lot. My dad says I talk too much. So maybe-”

“Brendon,” Spencer eventually said, cutting him off and kicking him under the table.

Brendon felt himself blush. “Could I maybe possibly stay here tonight?” He asked, eyes darting around and eventually settling on Zack, who Brendon figured was in charge here.

Zack shrugged. “Fine by me.”

Brendon beamed. He was totally going to get it when he finally went home, and he’d like to put that off as long as possible. He was lucky these guys were awesome.

“I’ll stay too,” Spencer said quickly, and this time everyone turned to stare at him. Brendon cocked his head to the side. What was Spencer up to? “If that’s okay,” he added. “So I can. Y’know. Keep an eye on Brendon.”

Brendon took slight offense to the idea of being someone who needed taking care of. He was fourteen, and like, practically an adult, practically.

“Yeah,” Jon finally said, after a long look at Spencer. He nodded. “Yeah. It’ll be like a sleep over.” He grinned, and Brendon decided he really like Jon’s grin. It was so friendly. It made him feel happy.

Zack wasn’t grinning though. He groaned. “If you brats keep me up all night, I’ll beat you with this.” He waved the spoon from the salad bowl menacingly, but he was grinning, so it was playful. Either way, Brendon felt himself flinch.

“We’ll be quiet,” Brendon said quickly. “Cross my heart!” he did so, too, just to prove it. Zack looked like he was trying to hide a smile. Spencer rolled his eyes and kicked Brendon again.

“Call your families and let them know you’re fine,” Zack added.  “I don’t want anyone calling the cops with a missing person’s report.”  Brendon really didn’t want to do that, but it wasn’t like he had a choice.  His mom would totally call the cops if he stayed gone all night, considering he usually never went anywhere.  Not wanting to call his parents, he called Mason’s cell phone.  Mason would be mad about having to break the news, but at least he wasn’t their father.

**  
  
  
**

…

It was three a.m. when Brendon woke up because something was wrong. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but when he tried to go back to sleep, he couldn’t. He could just feel the negative energy or something, and it was driving him crazy. He considered that it may have been the fault of too many redbulls (he wasn’t allowed to have caffeine at home, so whenever he was presented the option, he indulged) and went to the bathroom, where he peed and splashed cold water on his face to settle his nerves. He ran the cold water over his wrists too, but it didn’t help. He was still twitchy.

Someone was upset. Brendon wasn’t sure how he knew that either. He could… smell it? He could smell someone being sad, or something like that, and when he exited the bathroom he heard whispered voices from somewhere within the apartment.

“I can’t, Jon. I just can’t, okay? I’ll.. I have to find someplace else to live. But I can’t stay there. I’m too dangerous,” that was Spencer’s voice, and it was hushed and panicky.

“Spin,” Jon’s voice joined in. Brendon was a grade-a eavesdropper and pressed his ear to the door to listen. He found that he didn’t actually need to (his hearing was super freaky good thanks to his new wolf powers, which were awesome, like being an x-men or something) but it was force of habit, and made him feel steady.

“You have to stay home. You’re just a kid. You need to be with your family.”

“I’m going to hurt them! I already bit Brendon. Do you know how many close calls there have been? My… my parents would never forgive me if I hurt my sisters. I would never forgive me.”

Jon sighed. They were both really upset. Brendon was pretty sure he could smell it.

“It’s bad enough that their son is a werewolf, and they don’t even know about it. I don’t want to make two of their kids like that.”

“Hey,” Brendon could tell Jon was frowning. “There is nothing wrong with being a werewolf….”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just. Jon you know what… other people… think….”

“I don’t care what mortals think. They’re wrong.”

“What if next time I don’t just bite someone. What if I kill them? What if there's an accident and I kill Jackie or Crystal, or my mom or dad? Or what about Ryan? I couldn’t live with myself after that, Jon.”

“It’ll get easier to manage.”

“But it’s not right now! And I’m dangerous! I’m obviously dangerous! I bit Brendon!” Spencer’s voice rose and sounded desperate, but Jon shushed him gently, and their voices dropped back to whispers.

“I’m leaving home. I don’t have a choice.”

“Fine,” Jon said. “Then you’re going to live here. I’ll talk to Zack. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

There were a few sounds from the other side of the door, muffled sounds that Brendon couldn’t identify just from listening.  They stayed almost silent for a while, and Brendon was about to go back to bed.

“Shhh.” Jon’s voice came out smooth as silk. Brendon really liked Jon’s voice. Jon should talk a lot, Brendon thought. He had the kind of voice that deserved to talk a lot. “Shhh, puppy, it’s okay. Shhh.”

Brendon figured that he had heard all there was to hear and tiptoed back to the couch in the living room, which was the fancy kind that turned into a bed if you pulled the right part. He curled up under the blankets which were now icy cold, but he was magnificently warm all the time since Spencer bit him. Wow, that sounded weird in his head.  Spencer bit him. He figured the heat was one of his new x-men powers, and he liked it, even though he sweated a bit too much for his own liking already. At least this way he wouldn’t be too cold during the winters.

It didn’t take very long to fall back asleep, but he had really weird dreams when he did, and he woke up with a stomach ache.

**  
  
  
**

…

When Spencer woke up the next morning, Jon’s arms were wrapped tight around him, and they were laying sideways on Jon’s bed on top of the covers. He didn’t even think about how gay this probably looked, because Jon was warm and he didn’t have the emotional stamina to reject cuddles at the time being. Spencer snuggled closer into his chest, and Jon made a sleepy noise, eventually blinking his eyes open.

He looked confused for a split second before grinning at Spencer. “Oh. Good morning, starshine.”

Spencer pulled out of Jon’s grasp and sat up, stretching his arms up above his head and yawning.

Jon smiled sleepily up at him. “Such a puppy.”

“Do you guys have coffee?” Spencer asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Aren’t you kind of young for coffee?” Jon sat up and yawned, scratching his stomach. Spencer scoffed. “In the kitchen. C’mon.”

Spencer followed Jon out of his room and down the hall. When they walked into the kitchen, Brendon was already up, standing in front of the microwave and checking out the scratch on his face, murmuring ‘weird...’ under his breath.

“Y’know there’s a mirror in the bathroom, right kiddo?” Jon said, startling Brendon and making him jump and spin around.

“Sorry!” he blurted out, and Spencer frowned. Jon frowned too.

“What?”

Brendon was blushing now and fidgeting. “Nothing, nothing,” he said quickly. He watched Jon as he got the coffee maker started and bounced on his toes a bit. “Can I have some?” he asked.

“No!” Spencer and Jon answered at the same time. Spencer almost laughed.

“After last night’s redbull incident you are never having caffeine in this apartment ever again,” Jon told him, and Brendon pouted really hard. Bottom lip out, arms crossed, giant eyes. Spencer thought it was a little ridiculous, but Jon just grinned.

“B, how’d you get that spot on your cheek?” Spencer jumped up to sit on the counter and folded his hands in his lap.

Brendon looked absolutely, amazingly guilty for a second before snapping his mouth closed and dropping his gaze. “Oh,” he said. “Just nothing. I don’t even know how it got there. So.”

Spencer raised a skeptical eyebrow, because Brendon was really the shittiest liar in the history of everything. Spencer didn’t even need to be able to smell the guilt radiating off of the boy to know he was bullshitting. Brendon

wouldn’t look him in the eye and he was squirming all over the place.

“Brendon….”

Brendon’s eyes snapped up to look at Spencer for a second and they kept eye contact for a moment before Brendon spoke. “I’m fine, Spence. I promise I’m fine. I was doing handstands and I fell and I didn’t want to tell you cause that’s embarrassing but yeah, I cut my cheek and I’m fine, really, cause it totally healed already and it’s closed up and that’s weird but I’m totally okay, I promise, just a klutz, ha ha ha….”

Spencer blinked slowly. If he wasn’t conditioned to Brendon’s nervous babbling, he’d probably have the same facial expression as Jon, which looked like he’d been hit with a brick, absolutely perplexed.

“Brendon,” Spencer said again.

Brendon shook his head quickly. “Everything’s fine, Spencer. Really.”

Spencer opened his mouth to argue, but then Brendon mumbled something about needing to pee and darted out of the kitchen, nearly running into Zack in the process.

Zack looked disgruntled. “It is too damn early for my kitchen to smell this nervous. Take your adolescent hormones to someone else’s cornflakes.”

Spencer rolled his eyes and Jon cooed, “Awwww poor baby.”

Zack growled playfully in response, and Jon just grinned.

“Seriously though,” Zack said, pouring himself an actual bowl of cornflakes. “Who the fuck is messing up the zen?”

“My adolescent hormones,” Spencer said, taking the cup of coffee from Jon’s hands and hopping off the counter, walking to the living room to plop down on the couch.

“Zen?” he heard Jon ask incredulously.  “Really, Hall?  You’ve been hanging out with Wentz too much.”

**  
  
  
**

…

The last thing Brendon wanted was for Mason to barge into their room while Brendon was in the middle of dehydrating his body through tears. As if he weren’t humiliated enough already, he just had to be punished more by his brother coming into the room to watch him cry. Brendon’s dad had be predictably pissed, but it wasn’t even the smacking Brendon had gotten that had him so upset. It was the words ‘I don’t even recognize you anymore,’ and ‘I’m very disappointed in you,’ and worst of all, ‘Don’t you realize you’re breaking your mother’s heart?’ that kept reverberating through Brendon’s mind.

His father hated him- absolutely hated him. He might as well kill himself now and save his family the disappointment later. He was a fag, and he was a werewolf, and he couldn’t do a damned thing to fix any of it. Even if it was cool the way the cut on his face (which he'd figured out had come from his dad's wedding ring) had healed in only a few hours, all of his cool mutant powers had lost their appeal. He just wanted the power to make his family proud of him again.

“Brendon,” Mason said, and Brendon felt Mason sit on the edge of his bed. He didn’t sit up to look at him, just buried his face deeper into his pillow and willed himself to stop crying.

“Brendon, come on. He didn’t hurt you that bad, did he?” Mason was rubbing Brendon’s back now, but rather than relaxing him, it made Brendon feel totally on edge.

“I’m fine,” he said into his pillow. “Go away.”

“It’s just a spanking, Brendon. I know you’re dramatic, but this is a bit much,” Mason sounded kind of exasperated, but Brendon mostly just wanted to punch him in the face.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Brendon snapped, putting his pillow over his head to hide with his humiliation.

“You asked for it, y’know. Talking to Dad that way, and then staying out all night.  Still can’t believe you made me tell him.  Like, thanks a lot, Bren.”

“I already got a lecture,” Brendon sighed. “I don’t need another one,”

“We were really worried about you,” Mason told him.

Brendon didn’t actually care right at that moment. “Get out of my room,” he said.

“It’s our room, genius,” Mason grumbled back.

Brendon knew how his brother worked, though, and he knew how to get rid of him. He pulled the corner of the pillow up and peeked out at Mason with giant eyes. “Please, Mason? I just wanna be alone right now….”

Mason sighed and patted Brendon’s back again. “Alright. Fine. I’ll get out of your space. Stop moping before dinner though, okay? You’ll just piss Dad off if you keep playing this up.”

“What a caring older brother you are,” Brendon grumped, hiding back under his pillow. “Obviously very concerned for my well-being.”

The door closed and Mason was gone, so Brendon let himself cry again.

**  
  
  
**

…

As was custom, Spencer was greeted with a huge lecture when he got home. Where had he been? Why hadn’t he called? Was he trying to give his mother grey hair early? Stress eating, Spencer Smith. Stress eating. Don’t you shake your head at me, young man. What on earth has gotten into you? You’re worrying me to death.  He probably could have avoided this whole thing by calling his family the night before, like Zack had told him to.

Spencer cut his mom off in the middle of her tirade by hugging her, which made her freeze, open mouthed and eventually wrap her arms around her son. Spencer was well aware that he hadn’t hugged his mother willingly since her birthday (she’d hugged him plenty of times, but there was a difference between hugging someone and having them hug you). It wasn’t that Spencer wasn’t a cuddly guy, it’s just that this was his mom, and they had been on ends with each other for a while. He wasn’t a little boy anymore. He was seventeen years old. Snuggling up to his mom would just be… weird.

But when Spencer thought about leaving home, or thought about how disappointed his parents would be to find out that their son was a werewolf… it just made him sad, and it made him need to hug his mom, because what if he didn’t get to again? He’d probably regret that.

“Is everything alright, Spence?” his mom was using that gentle nervous voice that she used when Spencer came home from school crying in sixth grade, because some idiot dumped milk on his head on the bus, or two years after that, when his dog had died, or every time after that when Ryan had come over in the middle of the night and wouldn’t tell anyone but Spencer what was actually going on. His mom was good at gentle nervousness.

“I’m sorry,” was all Spencer said, hugging his mom tighter. She hugged him back just as tight, managing to completely smother him in the hug, which confused him a bit, since he was bigger than his mom now. How was she able to do that? One of those mom mysteries.

“Don’t think this is getting you out of being grounded,” she said, and Spencer laughed, despite himself.

“Yeah. Yeah Mom, I know.”

**  
  
  
**

…

When Brendon went downstairs for dinner, he was just about starving, having not eaten since breakfast (he’d skipped lunch in favor of hiding and pouting in his room). The whole house smelled like mac n cheese and it made his stomach growl. His enhanced senses just made it even more amazing. He found the source of the good smell in the kitchen, where Valarie and his mom were busy cooking. Kara was at the kitchen table, a math book opened in front of her, and Matthew was bustling around setting the table, looking mildly disgruntled at having his sister in the way.

“Matthew!” Brendon said, surprised that his brother was back already. He’d gone off on missions, and Brendon didn’t remember he was coming back today. He ran over and hugged him. “You just got back!”

Matthew laughed and set the silverware down on Kara’s math book, making her frown, and then grabbed Brendon in a headlock and nuggied him.

“Hey Bden.”

“Ow! Hey!” Brendon struggled to get away from him and squirmed. He bumped into Kara’s chair, and she poked him with a fork.

“Boys, no rough housing in the kitchen,” their mother scolded. “Take it outside, if you must.”

Brendon managed to squirm away and hide on the other side of Kara for safety. “When will dinner be done?”

“It’s just about done, sweetie.”

“Too bad you won’t be joining us.”  His father’s voice from the doorway surprised him and he snapped his head up to look at him. No dinner? What had he done this time?

“You didn’t find it necessary to joining us for dinner last night, young man, so you won’t be eating with us tonight, either. Go up to your room and wait to be called for devotions.”

Brendon’s mouth fell open and his stomach growled. “What?” he asked. “But… that’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair. Upstairs, now.” Brendon saw his mom appear over his father’s shoulder, frowning. She looked upset.

“Boyd, are you sure this is necessary?”

“Dad, come on!” Brendon whined. “Please?”

“If you are not up those stairs by the time I count to three, there will be a repeat of this morning. Do you understand me?”

**  
  
**

“But-”

“One.”

Brendon was actually quite sore, still. He stormed past his father with a huff, grumbling “this is so fucking unfair,” under his breath and slamming his bedroom door.

Brendon picked his pillow up off his bed and chucked it at the bedroom door, and when it bounced down, he kicked it a few times for good measure, tears starting to form in his eyes again. He was mysteriously outraged. Like, sure he was pretty pissed that he couldn’t eat dinner when he was hungry, but the swell of anger rising in his chest was bizarre. He didn’t understand where it was coming from. Glancing over, he saw his phone lying on his bed, where his pillow had been, and it was flashing. There was a text from Spencer.

Flopping down heavily on his bed, Brendon opened the message, which read: wryd?

Brendon considered telling Spencer about how much of a jerk his dad was being, but Spencer didn’t need to be worried by Brendon’s stupid problems. He typed back ur mom;) before throwing his phone across the room and onto Mason’s bed.

...

It was at dinner that night, all of them seated around the dining room table (even their grandpa was there, and Ryan had stopped in for dinner too) that his father dropped the bomb. Setting his fork down and rubbing his hands together, Spencer’s dad looked around the table before smiling.

“I have some exciting news,”

Spencer’s mom looked at him in interest and the twins exchanged a glance. Ryan didn’t respond, and Grandpa was incredibly focused on scooping his peas onto his spoon. They kept rolling away. Spencer felt kind of bad and wanted to help him. Being old must suck if you can’t even eat your own peas without breaking a sweat.

“My boss called me into his office today-”

“Are you in trouble?” Jackie interrupted. Crystal giggled and elbowed her. Spencer made a face at them. Why were girls so weird? Ryan shrugged.

“And he said that corporate has been considering several employees for a promotion, including me. They decided yesterday. You are now looking at the new vice-president of sales,” he beamed.

“That’s great, Dad!” Crystal gushed.

Spencer gave his dad a smile. “Yeah, Dad. That’s awesome.”

“James, that’s wonderful!” their mother said. It was pretty awesome news, and Spencer was relieved that it wasn’t anything life altering.

“The position is in Indianapolis and I start next month.”

Spoke too soon.

Ryan dropped his fork and it made a loud clattering sound that rattled through the now silent dining room.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jackie finally said, eyebrows up to her hairline. “Indianapolis? As in Indiana?”

Their mother’s smile had slowly faded off her face, but she was working on putting it back on. “This new position is good for you. And we could all do with a change of scenery,” she reasoned.

Spencer felt like his stomach had imploded, and when he looked at Ryan, Ryan looked like he was about to throw up.

“The job comes with a house,” Mr. Smith supplied, smiling wide around the table at everyone. Ryan hadn’t picked his fork up yet. Spencer was still staring at him intensely and trying to read his mind. It wasn’t working very well. Ryan had a difficult mind to read, and half the time Spencer tried to read it, he got it totally wrong. Still, it didn’t take much psychic work to figure out Ryan was upset.

“There’s enough room for Grandpa,” Mr. Smith kept smiling. Ryan’s eyes had started watering, but he wasn’t crying. Spencer knew how much Ryan hated crying in front of anyone. He was ready to rush after him if Ryan made a mad dash out of the room.

“Well, if we have to be there by next month,” his mom said, smile matching her husband’s, “we’d better start packing.”

Ryan was out the door before his thrown back chair hit the ground with a bang! Spencer was immediately out of his seat and following him. “Ryan! Ryan wait!”

He wasn’t hard to find. As soon as Spencer stepped onto the front porch, he found Ryan curled up on the porch swing, knees pulled up to his chest and arms wrapped securely around them. He wasn’t crying; his eyes were dry.  He had his chin sitting on his knees, and his stare was blank as he gazed out across the front lawn. Spencer sat carefully next to him and folded his hands in his lap. He knew Ryan Ross, and he knew that he just had to wait until Ryan decided to talk. Spencer could wait forever, and Ryan was the most impatient person he knew. It always worked.

It barely took any time at all. “I don’t want you to leave,” his voice was as monotone as ever, but Spencer could smell how upset he was, let alone see it. It was radiating so hard that it hurt Spencer too, or maybe Spencer was just upset himself. It was hard to tell sometimes.

“I’m not going to,” Spencer told him, and Ryan picked his head up and glared at him.

“Don’t be an idiot. And don’t do that, you’ll get my hopes up, and then you’ll leave, and-”

“Ryan,” Spencer said. “I… I can’t explain to you how, but I won’t be leaving when my family does, okay? I have a plan. You just have to trust me.”

Ryan set his head back down. “You’re a liar.”

Spencer sighed and wrapped his arm around Ryan’s skinny body. Ryan leaned into his side, and Spencer was proud of that, because whenever anyone else touched Ryan, Ryan always stiffened and pulled away. He only ever relaxed for Spencer.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get through this without you here….” Ryan’s voice was just barely shaking.

“You won’t have to. I promise.”

Spencer wondered if bonding worked with mortals as well as werewolves, because if it did, then Ryan was totally bonded with him. Spencer had made up his mind a long time ago to take care of Ryan, and even if Ryan didn’t like the idea of anyone taking care of him, he relied on Spencer more than he did anyone else. Spencer knew this. He also knew that there wasn’t a bit of hesitation in the decision he was making. He’d talk to Jon and Zack, then he’d break the news to his parents, say his goodbyes, and everything would work out.

Everything always worked out.

Spencer used to wish for his growth spurt to come, for a six pack, for his sisters to go mute. Now he just wished that everything would stop falling apart around him.

**  
  
**

…

Spencer’s life fell into a pattern. Get up, go to school, fall asleep in class, sit with Ryan at lunch, go home, do homework, do chores, IM Jon, check up on Brendon’s mental state, sleep, repeat. It wasn’t the most exciting life, but it wasn’t bad. Brendon seemed to be doing okay, and he was asking him tons of questions (not so much asking, more of stating observations with extreme amounts of exclamation points and question marks):

am always hungry now wut did u do to me?!?!????!!!!!!!

Despite the awkward kitchen moment regarding the cut on Brendon’s face, Spencer didn’t think there was too much to worry about. After all, Brendon would tell him if something was wrong, and so far he hadn’t said anything. Spencer couldn’t tell if Brendon was lying or not when they texted, but he was pretty sure Brendon was fine.

Ryan, on the other hand, was still horribly skeptical of Spencer’s promise not to leave while simultaneously despondent by Spencer’s seemingly inevitable departure.

And Spencer… well, he was just putting off having the conversation with his parents. The ‘you go ahead and move to Indiana, I’ll stay here with my wolf pack, oh right, by the way I’m a werewolf’ conversation. He couldn’t think of a single way that conversation could go well, and he couldn’t quite find the guts to start it.  Everything else was going to hell on its own accord; Spencer wasn’t ready to destroy another thing in his life on purpose.

Even so, a week after his dad’s big announcement, when his mother reminded him ‘for the fifth time Spencer James Smith’ that he needed to start packing, he realized he couldn’t put it off much longer. If he kept putting it off, he’d end up in Indianapolis with his family, and that would be bad.

Bad, definitely, but that didn’t mean Spencer was ready to say goodbye.

He told them during dinner, right after everyone had finished eating. He’d spent a long time debating whether he should come out in front of his sisters, but eventually decided that they were twelve, they could handle it, and they deserved to know why their older brother was dropping out of the family.

He started the conversation with, “I have something really serious to tell you….”

After the words, “I’m a werewolf” came out of his mouth, it felt like nobody even breathed for a million years. All eyes were on Spencer, which Spencer absolutely hated. Jackie’s mouth was hanging wide open, and Crystal looked scared. His father couldn’t stop blinking, and his mother’s face was decorated in a worried frown.

“Spencer….”

Spencer decided to go big or go home. “Six months ago. The first time I stayed out all night, I got bit, and then this other wolf found me and cleaned me up and stuff, and ever since then I’ve been hanging out with him and his alpha. That’s why I’ve been all moody and weird and awful to you guys, and I’m really sorry about all of it, but I didn’t know how to tell you before. But now you’re moving, and I can’t leave my pack, and I can’t leave Ryan. I’m really scared that I might accidentally hurt one of you, so… when you move, I’m staying here.”

After saying it, Spencer took a deep breath and tried to look mature and serious, like he was totally in control of the situation. Then his mother started crying, and it took all of Spencer’s willpower not to crumple.

Spencer’s dad quickly told the girls to go get ready to bed, and then Spencer had the longest conversation he’d ever had with his parents, which was weird, since he never had serious conversations with his parents unless they were yelling at him. Eventually Spencer’s mom stopped crying. She argued that no, there was no way he was going to be staying here on his own when he was only seventeen. Spencer argued that he’d be eighteen in September, and a legal adult. He also argued that it wasn’t fair to make him switch schools so soon before his high school graduation. His father mentioned that perhaps they could stay through May, to accommodate that, but Spencer insisted.

He argued that he was, under no circumstances, moving away from his pack. He argued that he was only six months old and that leaving his pack would be bad for him.

“I’m a werewolf now.”  Whenever he said the word, his mother looked close to tears again. “Here, in Colorado… this is the best place for me.”

They were up till two a.m. talking, before Spencer’s dad told him that he’d better get some rest, they’d make a decision in the morning. Also, Spencer didn’t have to go to school the next day, which was the best news Spencer had heard in a while. He had trouble sleeping anyways.

It was ten-thirty when Spencer finally woke up the next morning, but the sleep didn’t do him any good.  He was still exhausted. At first he felt fine, besides being tired, and then he remembered the night before and his stomach turned sour.

Oh yeah. That. Rubbing his tired eyes, he rolled over and yawned, then patted the surface of his desk, trying to find his cell phone. He found it, pressed ‘star 2’ and then placed the phone between his ear and his pillow. He almost fell asleep listening to it ring.

Jon’s voice woke him up again. “Hello? Spencer? Spencer are you there? Did you butt dial me?”

“Oh!” Spencer said, snapping awake. “Jon. Good morning.”

“Good morning to you too, sleeping beauty. What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Jon asked.

“Stayed home today.”

He could practically hear Jon frown through the phone. “Why? Are you sick?”

“I’m fine. But… I told my parents last night.”

There was a long silence on the other end, and Spencer counted his breaths during it, no longer on the verge of falling asleep. Eventually, Jon spoke again.

“How’d they take it?”

Spencer rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Well… my mom was pretty upset. We stayed up late talking about it, and I told them that I want to stay here, but they won’t go for it. It wasn’t too bad, though. Like. They weren’t angry.”

He heard Jon sigh. “Good. That’s good. Are you okay?”

Spencer chewed on his lip for a minute. “I’m okay,” he finally said. “Can you and Zack come over? I think… maybe if they talk to Zack, and see that I won’t just be staying here on my own….”

“I’ll tell Zack, and we’ll be right over,” Jon answered. “In an hour, okay Spin?”

“Okay.”

“See ya soon, puppy.”

When Jon hung up, Spencer burrowed back under his covers and tried to get back to sleep. He was too miserable to get up.

**  
  
  
**

…

A loud crash from downstairs startled Brendon awake.  He jerked up in bed with his back ramrod straight and his palms sweating, a growl nearly thundering out from his throat, because that had totally been the sound of breaking glass.  He felt his eyes switch back and forth as the adrenaline pumped through him: wolf human wolf human wolf human… He looked over at Mason to see his brother sitting up in bed, leaning forward with his head propped up on his hand and giving Brendon a tired smile.  

“Mom and Dad have been at it for a while,” he explained.  “It’s alright.  We don’t have to leave for church for another hour.  Go back to sleep,”

“You cannot keep doing this Boyd!” The too-loud sound of his mother’s voice caused Brendon’s eyes to snap to the door of their bedroom.  Listening in on the conversation, he realized that they were still downstairs arguing, not right outside his bedroom.  It had just been really loud, had sounded so close.  Brendon’s ears were tuning in and he could hear every word they were saying.  He also heard the shower turn on down the hall.  He and Mason weren’t the only people awake to listen to this.

“Do you know what happens to people like him-”

“You have no right-”

“I am leading my family as God intended, Grace-”

“He needs real help!  What you’re doing isn’t working!”

“Are you saying it’s my fault that our son is a-”

He didn’t want to listen to this.  It was making his stomach churn, but his ears just wouldn’t turn off.  They wouldn’t go back to normal.  He didn’t want to listen.  Brendon pressed his hands tight over his ears and shut his eyes, trying to block it out and get the stupid wolf senses to turn off.  

His parents were fighting.  His parents never fought, not like this.  Occasionally they would gripe at each other about money or the schedule or something that didn’t really matter, but they had never held shouting matches in the kitchen at seven in the morning.  This was new, and it was Brendon’s fault.  He could still hear them crystal clear, so he just ground the heels of his hands harder against his ears.

“Whoa, Bren, hey.”  The bed sunk down a bit when Mason sat next to him.  His larger hands wrapped around Brendon’s wrists and pulled them down.  Brendon didn’t want to let go, but he also didn’t resist.  He let Mason pull his hands away.  “Calm down, yeah?” Mason asked.  “God will see us through this.  They’re both just upset, okay?”

Brendon pulled his wrists out of his brother’s grasp so he could wrap his arms around himself.  Mason talking was distracting him.  He had to listen to something up close, and it helped him not listen to what was happening downstairs.  A door slammed.  Brendon tried not to listen to the footsteps.  “They’re upset because of me,” he said.

“It’s not your fault,” Mason responded, meeting Brendon’s eye and doing his ‘I’m being sincere’ eyebrow raise thing.  “This kind of thing is hard.  Just give them some time.  It’ll be alright.”

Brendon shrugged.  It was still his fault.  He knew that it was his fault.  That didn’t mean he knew how to fix it.  He didn’t want his parents screaming and fighting and hating each other.  What if they decided to get divorced?  That was just as bad at being gay, according to the Church.  Brendon was going to get everyone in trouble.  He was ruining everything.  

He’d ruined everything the moment he’d told Spencer.  Ever since Spencer’s mom had called Brendon’s mom, and Brendon’s dad had picked up the phone instead, and Brendon’s mom started crying, and Brendon’s dad started screaming, and everyone else just started sighing in Brendon’s general direction and patting him on the shoulder.  He’d barely been sleeping, and he was getting in trouble almost daily, as if he wasn’t killing himself over the guilt already.  He was exhausted, and he was miserable, and he basically just wanted to cry all the time.  Except that men didn’t cry.  His dad had told him that.  Brendon was working on that.

The only upside was that his hyperactivity had calmed down. He was twitchy, but not bouncy, and he didn’t have much to say most of the time. Brendon’s algebra teacher actually complimented him on his good behavior. Brendon wanted to laugh in her face.  Because sure, he was doing better, but he was actually doing so much worse.

**  
  
  
**

…

His parents were both surprised and terrified to have Zack and Jon (and a shorter man whom Spencer had never seen before, but he didn’t question it) at their front door right around noon. They’d both taken a day off of work so that they could talk to Spencer, but Spencer was doing his best to hide from them.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Smith,” Zack said, shaking her hand. Spencer figured that if anyone could convince his parents to let him stay behind, it was Zack. Zack was an adult and responsible and really good at taking care of people. Maybe his parents would feel better about him leaving if they knew he wasn’t going to be completely on his own.

They talked for what felt like forever, Spencer slouching on the couch next to Jon while the older people talked, his hoodie pulled up over his head and hiding. The mysterious guy sat next to Zack and stayed quiet, watching. There was something strange in the man’s eyes….

Having Jon there helped. Jon would occasionally bump his knee or squeeze his shoulder, and Spencer appreciated that. It made him feel rooted while the surreal conversation in front of him threatened to make him float away.

Eventually though, Spencer’s parents decided they wanted proof. Jon nudged Spencer in the side with his elbow, and Spencer jerked up.

“What?”

“Show them, Spence,” Zack said, nodding towards them. “Shift.”

Spencer felt himself blush bright red. “I have to take my clothes off….” Sometimes he was really embarrassed about the way things sounded when they came out of his mouth. The mysterious guy snorted a laugh.

“Go strip in the other room, puppy,” Jon said, grinning, “Then shift and come back.”

Oh. Well that made sense. Jon was full of good ideas like that. Spencer darted out of the room and made sure he was well hidden before stripping his clothes off, then closed his eyes for a second and held his breath. It still hurt, but not as much as the first few times. It tingled, more than anything. For some reason, he felt like complete physical reconstruction should be a much more painful process, but Jon had explained to him that it was more of a supernatural process than a physical one, and he decided not to think too much about it and just be grateful.

When he padded back into the other room, long nails clicking on the hardwood floor, his mother gasped and turned pale. Spencer heard himself whimper.

“C’mere, Spence,” Zack’s said to him, so he went over to where Zack was and sat by his side, putting his head on Zack’s knee and letting Zack pet him. He noticed that Jon had sprouted himself ears and a tail, which he was lazily wagging about. Spencer’s father was looking at him with a look of slight horror.

 

After a while more of talking, the mysterious guy finally spoke. He insisted that, really, the best thing for Spencer would be to keep him with his pack. There was… something… in the man’s voice, and Spencer found himself nodding along to the words without thinking about it. It puzzled him. His parents were nodding too.

Spencer went and shifted back, got dressed again. It was decided that Spencer would stay with his family for two more weeks until they moved, and then he’d live with Zack and Jon in their apartment, a permanent part of the pack.

Spencer’s dad brought up a question about custody, since Spencer was only seventeen, but the mysterious stranger said, “Don’t worry about it. I have everything sorted out,” and they didn’t argue a word more. That was bizarre. Spencer’s dad never trusted people that quickly. He was a diy kind of guy, who wouldn’t even trust a plumber to fix the bathroom sink, but here he was, trusting a total stranger to take care of this.

Spencer decided that this strange guy was really, really weird.

“You know I’m still me, right?” Spencer had said that night at dinner. Everyone stopped eating for a moment and looked at him.

“Of course, Spencer,” his mom smiled at him really sweet like. “Nothing will ever change how much we love you.”  She’d squeezed his hand, for a split second before quickly pulling away.

Spencer’s mom had always been a very huggy person. She hugged her kids all the time, several times a day, which is part of the reason why meeting Brendon hadn’t thrown Spencer off too bad. Physical contact was normal for him. So when Spencer noticed that his mom no longer hugged him, ruffled his hair, touched him in any shape or form after Zack and Jon’s visit, well…. He just pretended that he didn’t notice it, pretended that he didn’t care, and didn’t bother to mention it.

He did care, though.  It made him sadder than he would ever admit.

 


	3. The World's a Broken Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer and Brendon POV only this time. Spencer's going through a lot of big changes, while Brendon's just trying to hang in there. I'm bad at summaries... read the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (EDITED :) )

 

_R: You're here with Robert on RW TALKS, 89.9 AM, your favorite early morning talk show.  I got Jeffrey Gates here, candidate for the upcoming Sheriff's position here in Marksville, and we're talking about a topic that is on the top of my mind, and I know it's on all of your minds as well. How you doin', Jeffrey?_

_J: I'm doing just fine, Rob.  And yourself?_

_R: I'm well, Jeff.  Now, what can you tell us about these, as they call themselves, "werewolves?"_

_J: You know, I think it's just sickening what these people are doing.  I mean they were "in the closet," if I can use that phrase here, for centuries.  Why can't they just stay there and stop causing so much havoc for us?  We have enough problems in this country- murder, homelessness, unemployment, homophobia, sexism, racism- we don't need these people, if you can even call them that, coming out and causing more trouble.  How can we trust them?  We don't know anything about them!  And what we do know about them is that they're violent, whenever they interact with us it ends_ badly _, and let's face it.  These are people with out God, Robert, and let me tell you.  They just aren't normal._

 

...

Brendon remembered loving family get-togethers. All of the aunts would make food and all of his cousins would come over to play, and if he bugged his Uncle Jacob enough, he’d pick Brendon up and toss him around. His cousins and him loved that game, getting tossed around and flying, giggling until their stomachs hurt. Family get-togethers used to be Brendon’s favorite days.

 

Now though, Brendon was too big to fly anymore. He sat there still on the couch while Kara and Valarie disappeared upstairs with the female cousins. Brendon had two cousins his age, one who was a varsity linebacker as a freshman and almost as big as Zack, which was terrifying, and one who wanted to save Brendon’s soul. It wasn’t like they could run around and play hide and seek anymore (well, they could. Brendon wouldn’t entirely object, but he had a feeling his cousins were “too cool” for that). They could put down a board game and kill a few hours, but board games sucked, and the soul-saving cousin was ironically an infamous cheater at anything with cards or dice.

 

Besides, Chet (that would be the linebacker. Total jock name. Brendon wondered how those coincidences happened) would rather sit in the living room with the others and talk about the excitement of ESPN on TV. Brendon sat there bored and tried not to fidget.

 

“Sit still, would you? You’re so irritating!” That would be Brendon’s older cousin, a boy Spencer’s age named Mark who was on a total ego boost. Telling people what to do was his favorite pass time. Brendon glared at him.

 

“Why don’t you just go upstairs and play with the ladies, where you belong?” Mark teased, sneering at him. Brendon wanted to punch him in the nose.

 

“Why don’t you go stick your head in the toilet with the other pieces of-”

 

“TOUCHDOWN!” Half the people in the room screamed, leaping to their feet. The sandwich Chet had been holding sprayed lettuce everywhere when Chet threw his arms out in victory. Lettuce rained down on Brendon like confetti. Brendon slouched down in his seat and continued glaring at his cousin. Mark glared back.

 

“Is everything okay here, boys?” Uncle Jacob set both of his hands on Brendon’s shoulders, and Brendon made himself look away from Mark before they both got in trouble.

 

“Of course.” Mark could lie like a rug, smiling up at their uncle with innocence written all over his face. If Brendon hated anyone, it just might be Mark. Really, he’d rather wrestle with Chet than hold a conversation with the dude. “I don’t have any problems, but Brendon here seems to be upset with me.” He frowned, and his acting was good enough to win an Emmy.

 

“Brendon?”

 

If only Brendon could punch him in the nose… “There’s nothing wrong. We’re just talking.”

 

“Take a chill pill, kid.” Jacob clapped him on the shoulder and shook him a little in a way that was supposed to be… friendly.. or something. Brendon slouched more.

 

“Yes sir…”

 

“Good boy.” Brendon’s hair was ruffled, and he busied himself with picking lettuce off his jeans while the room settled down again. Mark was smirking at him again, and Brendon put serious amounts of focus into not punching him in the nose. He figured that if he tried, Mark would probably hit him back twice as hard, and then he’d have an entire room full of guys, much larger than him, pissed that he was interrupting their football game.

 

It was a commercial break, and Uncle Al had a newspaper open in his lap. “Look at this!” he declared, scoffing and jabbing the paper with his finger. It was a big city newspaper from Denver, and the front page was a story about some kind of ruckus in New York City. Brendon glanced over to see what he was upset about, and his mouth went dry when he saw the word 'werewolf.'

 

“Can you believe this?” he said to the room, angry. Several of the guys were crowding around him to look, but Brendon didn’t move. “This world is going to hell, just like the Good Book predicted.”

 

“You talking about the fag parade they just had in Chicago?  It was all over the news,” Al added.

 

“Can’t believe they’re letting those people get married,” Brendon’s father said, eyes flitting to Brendon only for a second. “It’s sick. This country has no morals left anymore.”

 

“And when we thought it couldn’t get worse.” Uncle Al jabbed at the paper again. “These freaks. These… these devils are walking the streets of New York City sprouting ears and tails and throwing their sick condition in everyone’s faces.  They’ve started organizing public get-togethers, where they all strip naked in the park and run around under the moon. Like a pagan ritual.”

 

“Sickening,” Mr. Urie said. Brendon’s knuckles were turning white where he was clenching his fists.

 

“All I know,” Uncle Al said, shaking his finger, “Is that if one of those sick bastards showed their head around here, they’d get a bullet, right between the eyes.” He pointed on his own forehead. “Just the way an animal deserves.”

Mark was laughing, and Brendon refused to look at him.

 

“And we’d hang their freaky head, right above my fireplace.” Uncle Al spread his hands up and smiled, and then Brendon was on his feet, practically running out of the room.

 

“Brendon,” his dad’s voice barked. “Brendon! What are you doing?”

 

“Brendon sure is sensitive,” Mark said. “Are you sure you shouldn’t have named his Brenda?”

 

“Give it a rest, Mark!” Brendon could always trust Mason to come to his rescue. He had that at least. Not wanting to hear anymore, he headed down the hall in search of some privacy and found it in the laundry room. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘better than nothing,’ and sat up on the washing machine, lounging back against the wall and sighing. Sometimes he really hated his family, even though that was wrong.  Even though he was supposed to love them.  It was hard sometimes.

 

“Brendon?” Uncle Al was calling his name, and Brendon groaned, pulling his knees up to him and hoping his Uncle wouldn’t find him. No such luck.

 

“What are you doing in here, boy?” Uncle Al asked, walking into the laundry room. He tapped the back of his hand against Brendon’s knee, and Brendon sighed and turned, letting his legs dangle off the washing machine.

 

“What do you want?” Brendon grumbled, crossing his arms. Uncle Al raised an eyebrow.

 

“Is that the way you speak to an adult, young man?” he asked. Brendon dropped his gaze to his knee where the denim was starting to thin after being handed down four times.  He shook his head reluctantly.

 

“No sir. Sorry,” he mumbled.

 

“You know,” Uncle Al heaved himself up onto the dryer next to Brendon, like he was trying to be cool or something. Brendon scooted away until he was pressed against the wall and as far away from Uncle Al as he could manage. “One of these days you’re going to have to start acting like a man, if you wanna get yourself a wife. You’ll have to be the rational one. You know how women can be.”

 

Brendon used a lot of self control to not bang his head against the wall.

 

“You’re not a little boy anymore. You keep being dramatic, it’s going to hurt your reputation,” Uncle Al said. Brendon wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn’t. “People are going to start talking. They’re gonna think you’re a fag. You don’t want people saying that, do you?”

 

Brendon swallowed hard. “No sir,”

 

“Don’t you dare start crying,” Uncle Al said, hand on the back of Brendon’s neck tugging him to make eye contact. “Men don’t cry.”

 

Brendon pulled his head away. “Yes sir.”

 

“Alright,” Uncle Al squeezed Brendon’s knee. “That’s good. You just have to put in an effort, Brendon.”

 

“Yes sir,” Brendon said, monotone. He’d say anything to get his uncle to go back to his football game. Thankfully, it worked. Uncle Al jumped down from the dryer and clapped Brendon on the knee. Brendon bit his lip to keep from squeaking. He was ticklish. He couldn't help it. But he had a feeling that men weren’t ticklish, so he did his best to keep it in.

 

“Good talk. And I don’t want to see anymore funny business between you and Mark. You got me?” Uncle Al said, and Brendon wanted to reply, ‘then maybe you should teach your son to stop being a dick’ but he didn’t, cause he didn’t feel like getting his ass beat today, thank you very much.

 

“Yes sir. No more funny business.”

 

“You’re going to have to start standing up for yourself, kid.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Brendon waited until his uncle had left the room before raising his middle finger at the man’s back and praying to a God he hardly believed in that his uncle didn’t turn around and see him. He didn’t. Once he was far away in the living room, Brendon hopped down and decided to join his mom and aunts in the kitchen.  That was short lived.  After getting his hand smacked with a spoon while trying to steal some food off the stove, he gave up and headed upstairs. Kara never kicked him out of the room during these affairs.

 

He knocked, and she pulled him inside. He sat around with the girls while they talked about boys at school and tried to get Brendon to let them paint his nails. Brendon refused. Not that he would mind too much, not like he wanted his nails painted sparkly blue or whatever, but he wouldn’t really mind either. He probably would have let them have their fun if it weren’t for what his father would say if he saw. That, yeah.. that he didn’t want to deal with.

 

Uncle Al’s words stuck with him though. If men stood up for themselves… If Brendon was supposed to stand up for himself… Well, maybe next time he would. Just maybe he would.

 

…

It was a relief to get out of the house after dinner, so much so that he ran all the way to the apartment. He’d played it right, asking his mother while she was in a good mood if he could get out of the house to spend the night at Spencer’s. Mrs. Urie had a bit of a soft spot for Spencer, and she agreed, so long as Spencer’s parents were home. Mom said yes, and Dad couldn’t really argue, no matter how disgruntled he was about the matter.

 

Brendon figured he wasn’t technically lying to his parents. He was going to Spencer’s house, and he was spending the night. Zack was technically Spencer’s legal guardian (probably), and he was going to be there the entire time. It wasn’t like what he was doing was unsafe, but it wasn’t something that his parents would approve of.

 

He was a werewolf, which was obviously a crime all on its own. He was going out with guys who were older than him (something his parents would hate, since Brendon had been unceremoniously thrown from the closet and they were trying to shove him back in).  He was hanging out in the woods all night.  If Brendon ever had a friend over, they stayed in the house and were in bed by eleven. They definitely wouldn’t approve of Brendon’s plans for the night.

 

But he couldn’t avoid it. If he didn’t go out, he’d just have to lock himself in the bathroom all night until the moon went away. Brendon’s dad would probably kick in the door and find him, and then his other secret would be out, and he’d probably have a bullet between the eyes by sunrise.

 

In contrast to that morning, the full moon was definitely the best time Brendon had ever had in his entire life.

 

There had been a few times where he’d changed in his sleep (thankfully Mason was a heavy sleeper, and Brendon had woken up to find something amiss before his brother had). There had also been a few (very few- Brendon wasn’t allowed out much) times where he’d practiced at Zack’s apartment. But really, Brendon had to be honest, being out on moon night was so much better than any of those times.

 

The air was crisp and clear, starting to warm up with the Spring, and almost all the snow was gone. He could hear every sound and smell every smell and he felt more free than he ever had before. Brendon leapt on top of Jon and bit his ear, tugging. Jon yelped and pounced on him, pinning him down, and they rolled around in the dirt nipping at each other. Jon was a whole lot bigger in this form than Brendon was, since Jon had been a werewolf since he was born, and Brendon was just a puppy. Spencer was a bit bigger than Brendon, but not much. He was a puppy too. And Zack, well… Zack in wolf form could have swallowed Brendon whole. Brendon didn’t wrestle with Zack.

 

Jon had him pinned down and was nuzzling at Brendon’s neck, and Brendon would have been giggling if he were in human form. Spencer ran at them and hit them with a force powerful enough to knock them both over, so Brendon pounced on Spencer and licked his face. Strong teeth clamping onto the scruff of Brendon’s neck pulled him off of Spencer, and Brendon waited for Zack to set him down again before biting Zack's ear and bounding away.

 

...

 

“That was amazing!” Brendon tugged on his pants and underwear before jumping up and down. “That was so much fun!”

 

Jon laughed. He chucked Brendon’s t-shirt at him, and it hit Brendon in the face, making Brendon giggle. He was absolutely elated.

 

Spencer was obviously tired, yawning and tugging at the hood of his sweatshirt in confusion, because it was in the front instead of the back, and somehow he had trouble understanding why.

 

“Okay pups, let’s get going,” Zack said, having gotten himself fully dressed again. Brendon followed the others to their place, Zack in the lead. Spencer seemed to be sleepwalking, shuffling along slowly and rubbing his eyes from time to time. Brendon watched as the toe of Spencer’s shoe caught on an uneven part of the sidewalk and almost sent the boy sprawling. Brendon reached out to grab him, but Jon was already there, catching him while laughing, and then throwing Spencer over his shoulder like it was nothing.

 

Spencer yelped and kicked his legs. “Jon! Let me down!”

 

“No way, puppy. You’re not safe to walk,” Jon said, patting Spencer’s thigh and keeping his hands on Spencer’s legs to keep him steady. Spencer frowned and clutched onto Jon’s shirt.

 

“Drop me and I’ll kill you,” Spencer growled. He looked up at Brendon and stuck his tongue out, and Brendon giggled.

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, puppy,” Jon replied.

 

‘Yeah,’ Brendon thought, grinning and running up to jump on Zack’s back. Zack rolled his eyes and plucked Brendon off of him, ruffling his hair as he set him back on the ground. ‘Best night ever.’

 

…

 

“See,” Spencer said, nudging his knee against Ryan’s. They’d been sitting on Spencer’s front porch steps, knees and shoulders touching, ever since Spencer’s family had left with the moving truck. The house was empty and the door was locked, and Spencer should have been at Zack’s apartment a long time ago, but he didn’t want to leave Ryan.

 

“I told you I wasn’t leaving.”

 

Ryan just responded with “hm,” but he did lean into Spencer and rest his head on Spencer’s shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, silent again, until Ryan whispered, “Are you going to miss them?”

 

Spencer nodded silently, because yeah, he kind of really was.

 

“I can’t believe your mom would just agree to this,” Ryan said.

 

‘I can,’ Spencer thought. His mom had stayed cautiously distanced from him ever since he’d broke the news about being a werewolf. His dad had been curious, asking playfully what else Spencer was capable of, and Spencer showed him by picking up the granite dining room table and hoisting it above his head. His sisters and father had been decently impressed. His mother on the other hand, well... When he’d set it down and looked to see where she was, she was nowhere to be seen.

 

“What else can you do, kid?” his dad had asked, nudging Spencer with his elbow. Spencer grinned and challenged his dad to a pizza eating contest. They ordered five pizzas and Spencer ate three all by himself.

 

Spencer’s dad had hugged him tight when they were about to leave. Spencer hugged back just as tight, but not too tight.  He didn’t want to hurt him.

“I’ll keep in touch,” he said.

 

His dad mussed up his hair and said, “Yeah, you’d better.” Spencer didn’t even act annoyed or try to straighten it.

 

His sisters hugged him too, at the same time, trying to squeeze the life out of him like they always did. Spencer just laughed and hugged them gently, picking them up and making them giggle. There had been a time when his mother would have hugged him hard enough to suffocate him, but when it was her turn, she approached him slowly. She gave him a smile and put her hand on the side of his face.

 

“We’ll miss you,” she said, and Spencer couldn’t really help himself. He nuzzled against his mother’s hand, making him feel warm and fuzzy at the affection, but she stiffened and pulled it back. Spencer smiled like he didn’t notice.

 

“I’ll miss you too, Mom,” he said, still smiling. “I’ll be fine here with my pack, I promise.”

 

She flinched slightly, and Spencer pretended he didn’t notice that either.

 

“Yeah,” she said, sighing and folding her hands in front of her.

Spencer took that as a sign that she wasn’t going to offer him a hug, so he just kept smiling. Eventually, after they had all gotten in the car and left, he sat next to Ryan on the porch and kept acting like it didn’t bother him. He decided that sometimes things hurt, and maybe you wondered why, but mostly you tried not to think about it.

 

…

 

Being ‘grounded’ wasn’t generally a punishment in the Urie house, and staying home from school was a rare miracle that only accompanied either lots of puking, a fever over 100 degrees, or a legitimate inability to get out of bed.   When you have six kids, Brendon figured, the last thing you wanted was to keep them packed in your home.  Despite all this, Brendon had been sentenced to the house for the entire day.  His parents had decided it was the only option, really.  An argument with his father the night before had gotten a little out of hand, and the discussion ended with Brendon sporting a black eye.

 

That, of course, sparked an argument between his mom and dad.  His mother had yelled furiously at his father (“how dare you…!”) while sitting Brendon down in the living room and pressing a bag of frozen peas to his eye, which was swollen shut.  Kara sat next to him on the couch and quietly repeated their mother’s sentiment of ‘how dare he’ and adding in a ‘you don’t deserve that’ for good measure.  

 

Mason squeezed his shoulder and said “He didn’t mean to hurt you, Bren,” which was what he said every time and also a total lie.  Valerie had left the room without looking at him and hadn’t said anything.  That was her typical reaction as well.

 

His parents locked themselves in the kitchen to argue, as if the drywall would mute their conversation any.  It didn’t.  Even a regular human would have been able to hear every word.   Kara wrapped her arm around his shoulders and squeezed him tighter with every passing moment.

Brendon was grateful though, because while his parents fought, his father never hit his mom.  Some kids weren’t that lucky; Brendon knew that.  It was a tender mercy that Brendon was the only target of this stuff in his family (his siblings had been hit before, sure.  when they were younger mostly.  but getting smacked or having your mouth washed out wasn’t the same as getting a black eye).  He was working on counting the small blessings.  There had been a talk about it last week at Church.

 

His father actually apologized that time.  Or… not exactly.  He said, “I’ll restrain myself in the future,” which wasn’t exactly an apology, but it was close enough.  He also said that Brendon would be staying home from school the next day.   He couldn’t go in with a black eye.  People would notice, and they’d start asking questions, and Brendon understood that this mess was his fault already.  He didn’t need to bring other people into it and make it bigger.  

 

He apologized for arguing with his father.  That night’s family devotion was about forgiveness.

 

So Brendon spent the next day haunting around the house.  He’d gotten up early with everyone else, sitting on the couch and smirking as his sisters headed out the door for school.  He wasn’t allowed to watch TV, so he spent most of his time upstairs instead, reading and texting Spencer.  He practiced piano for a while, but after going through every song he knew twice, it was only eleven a.m., and he decided it was time for a nap.

 

He woke up feeling disoriented, not only because he’d been asleep in the middle of the day, but also because the house was silent.  The house was never silent, or at least Brendon was never home during the times that it was.  He sat up and rubbed his eyes and then winced, because it was still bruised and sore and he’d forgotten.  A trip to the bathroom mirror revealed purple bruises and far less swelling than there had been that morning.  He made faces at himself in the mirror and poked at the bruise a bit until a shuffling noise downstairs caught his attention, and he decided to investigate.

 

The fifth step down squeaked.  He and his siblings usually made a habit of stepping over that one.  He was tired and forgot, though, so he froze when his foot stepped on the obnoxiously noisy space.  His mother’s voice called out to him, asking him to come into the family room.

 

Brendon continued down the steps quickly, contemplating the silence surrounding him.  He didn’t smell funeral potatoes or a pie cooking, so nothing too disastrous could have happened.  When bad things happened, his mother started cooking.  Considering this, everything should have been safe.

 

In the family room, his parents were sitting side by side on the loveseat, once again a united front apparently.  His father motioned for him to sit across from them on the sofa, so he sat.  

 

It turned out to be the ‘I’m worried about you’ talk, which Brendon just about had memorized at this point.  He’d heard the speech a lot, lately.  ‘I’m worried that you might be getting influenced by worldly sources, Brendon.’  ‘That kind of thinking can be dangerous, Brendon.’  ‘It is your duty as a young person to be a guardian of virtue, Brendon,’ and ‘You need to keep the true path in mind, Brendon.’  ‘You need to bridle your passions, Brendon,’ which was their way of saying not to have any passions and to stop being so ‘colorful’ (that was the word his mother liked to use when she talked to his aunts on the phone).  She was concerned.  His aunts were concerned.  Everyone, it seemed, was concerned.

 

Through this particular ‘I’m worried about you’ talk, Brendon learned that his parents knew he’d been skipping seminary.  He actually hadn’t gone at all in two weeks (“we’re very disappointed in your actions.”  “where is this disobedience coming from?”).  He hadn’t been going to seminary, and he hadn’t been attending youth group after school or ward activities on Fridays.  He’d been spending all of that free time at Spencer’s, which was a lot more fun that Church sanctioned events could ever hope to be.

 

Of course he had to tell them that, which is when they frowned very seriously at him and expressed their disappointment again.  His mother, at one point, took Brendon’s hand in hers and asked if Spencer was his (there was an awkward pause before the word) boyfriend.  Brendon had to keep himself from simultaneously giggling and making gagging noises.  Spencer?  Really?  No thank you.

 

He assured them that no, he wasn’t, and they looked slightly relieved about that.  He was still forbade from hanging out with Spencer, ‘ever, young man, do you understand me?  That boy is a bad influence.’  Brendon had scowled and crossed his arms and tried to argue, which got him sent to his room for having a bad attitude.  He hung out there and pouted and texted Spencer for a while.  At least his parents didn’t check his phone regularly, another tender mercy he could add to his list.

 

Before going down for dinner that night, Brendon checked his eye in the mirror again and saw that the bruise had gone from dark blue to yellow and green.  He was struck with a brief wave of panic, because that was totally the werewolf thing that made his eye heal so fast.  What if his parents figured that out?  That would be a disaster.

 

Of course they didn’t.  His father just remarked about it to his mother, saying, “I told you I didn’t hit him that hard, Grace.”  His mom had frowned at his father before kissing Brendon on the top of the head and setting food down on the dinner table.

 

…

Spencer was doing fine, really.  Things were just different.  He missed his family, and he missed Haley, and he wasn’t used to everything yet.  The apartment was nice, though.  A much shorter walk to school. It had three bedrooms, and they let Spencer have one. He tried to make it look like his room at home, with everything neat and in order, posters straight, bed made. It was comforting, in a way. He didn’t have to worry about waking up all out-of-sorts and in the wrong body. He didn’t have to worry about eating too much, because Jon and Zack ate just as much as he did. It was comfortable, being there, but Spencer couldn’t help being kind of sad.

 

His parents called to check up on him, and even though he missed them, he didn't want to talk. Zack had to practically pin him down and hold the phone to his ear to force him to talk to his mom, and afterwards Spencer always felt like shit. He would go and sulk in his room, because it was stupid to feel homesick like this.

 

Still. It was about a month after his parents left, about ten o'clock on a Friday night. Spencer was bored, bumming around not really doing his chemistry homework so much as drawing pictures of astronaut frogs in the margins, and then he just.. Thought about it. He was never really bored on Friday nights, because on Fridays his dad would rent a movie on the way home from work and they would all sit around and watch it as a family. It had seemed so lame before, but...

 

It had been a month, four Fridays, and Spencer hadn't even thought about that. But now that he was remembering, he was sad.

 

Unable to stand his own company anymore and bored with his frogs, Spencer got up and paced for a moment. Then he sighed and thought ‘fuck it.’  He went out into the living room to see if anyone was up.

 

Jon was sitting on the couch, staring heavy-lidded at his cellphone.  He smelled bored. Spencer considered not bothering him for a moment, but if he spent another second sitting around feeling sorry for himself and thinking about his family he just might explode. So he shuffled over to the couch and plopped down, pulling his legs up and curling up, head on Jon's shoulder. It was something that Brendon had done to him a million times, and now Spencer kind of understood why. It was nice to lean on Jon. He felt warm and sturdy while Spencer felt shaky.

 

"Hey Spence." Jon put his arm around Spencer's shoulders and carded his fingers through his hair. "What's the matter, puppy?"

 

Spencer shrugged and closed his eyes. "I'm fine.”

 

"You're sad," Jon rested his cheek against Spencer's head and locked his cellphone. "Homesick?"

 

Spencer wondered how Jon could possibly know that. He nodded. "I miss them or something… It’s dumb."

Jon's arm tightened around them. "It was hard when I first left home and moved here too."

 

Spencer curled his fingers into Jon's hoodie, just a little. Maybe he wouldn't notice.

 

“Want to watch a movie?  To distract you?”

 

"It might distract me I guess," Spencer sighed. "I need to get out of my head."

 

Jon nudged him gently to sit up, and then leaned over and grabbed the remote to then the tv on. "This work?" He turned on some comedy things, from the eighties or something, and Spencer nodded. He curled back into Jon's side, and it wasn't long before he was totally lost in the movie they were watching. It wasn't very interesting, but...

 

Spencer woke up a few hours later to find Zack covering them with a blanket. They'd fallen over, and Spencer was curled up on Jon's chest, squeezed between Jon's side and the back of the couch. Jon had his arms wrapped around Spencer tight. Spencer was embarrassed for a moment before Zack pushed his head back down gently and whispered, "It's okay. Sleep."

 

‘Well,’ Spencer's sleepy brain thought, ‘can't argue with that.’ His eyes slid shut and he fell asleep again, Jon's heartbeat in his ears.

 

…

 

Ryan looked exhausted the next time Spencer saw him, with dark circles under his eyes standing out against his pale skin. The circles were purple and black and red, like someone who hadn’t been sleeping enough. He had a fading green bruise on his cheek, and usually their system was of the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ variety, when it came to Ryan’s injuries. But this time….

 

“Are you okay, dude?” Spencer asked. They had walked to the park and were sitting on the swings. Spencer forced his eyes away from the slide and totally didn’t think about it. Or at least, he tried not to. Ryan stopped swinging when Spencer spoke and glanced at the other boy with cautious eyes.

 

“Why do you care?” he asked, after a while. Ryan had this creepy way of keeping eye contact while he accused people of things. He didn’t fidget or look nervous at all, just got really still and stared into Spencer’s soul. “It’s not like you’ve been around to notice.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said. “I’ve been busy.”

 

He hadn’t, actually. Not anymore than he ever had been. But it was easier to keep an eye on Ryan when they lived next door, rather than across town from each other. They still went to school with each other, yeah, but Ryan’s schedule had been switched and they didn’t have the same lunch period anymore. Spencer being a senior, and Ryan an freshman, they hardly ever saw each other during the day. None of it was on purpose, it was just sort of happening on its own accord.

 

“Yeah well.” Ryan started swinging again and not looking at Spencer. “I have plenty of things to keep me busy.”

 

Spencer nodded. He kicked absentmindedly at the wood chips under his feet. “Sorry.”

 

Ryan didn’t respond to that. He kept swinging for a while, and then he said, “I’m as okay as ever, but… worse, somehow. I’m not. But things are.”

 

Spencer watched him carefully, but Ryan wouldn’t stop swinging enough to look at him.

 

“It’s nothing that I can’t handle,” he added. “Just a lot that I don’t want to, I guess.” He let his worn down tennis shoes drag through the dirt until he wasn’t swinging anymore.  Then he twisted the swing chains, and Spencer watched him spin.

 

“Do you think… maybe once in awhile... I could stay over at wherever you’re staying now?” Ryan asked, not looking at Spencer. He kept eye contact when he was being rude but never looked at Spencer when he asked for something. Spencer noticed that and wondered if it meant something.

 

“I… I don’t think Zack would be okay with that, Ry.” Spencer felt like the lowest, most awful piece of shit ever as he said it, but… He didn’t know if Zack would be okay with that. Zack probably would though, since he didn’t object to practically adopting Spencer and letting Brendon hang out all the time. But then again, Spencer and Brendon were werewolves; Ryan was a mortal. And Spencer didn’t want Ryan finding out about the wolf thing. It wasn’t really a secret to go around whispering to people. Sure, he would consider Ryan his best friend, but he didn’t want to tell him about the huge mess that his life had turned into.

 

If Ryan came over to the apartment, there was no way the secret would be kept safe. Zack and Jon were so obvious it was painful, really. It must have been a natural born wolf thing.

 

Spencer could only tell Ryan was disappointed by the way his eyes jerked to the side for a moment before looking back down again. Ryan was really subtle about emotions, but Spencer had practice. Seeing that Ryan was upset only made him feel guiltier, but he was protecting him, really. He’d let Brendon get too close to the whole werewolf situation and look what had happened! If Spencer hurt Ryan, well… He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

 

“That’s fine,” Ryan said quickly. “Don’t want you to get in trouble or anything. It’s fine.”

 

“You’re sure?” Spencer asked, and it was a stupid question, since Spencer was the one who told him no in the first place.

 

“Yeah.” Ryan stood up. “Yeah, it’s cool Spence. I should head home, before it gets too late. I want to get there before Dad.”

 

“Okay, Ry… Want me to walk you home?” he offered.

 

“It’s fine, Spencer. I’ll see you around.” Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets and set off down the road. Spencer frowned and watched him go for a moment.  After a while, he stood up and headed in the other direction towards the apartment. It was for Ryan’s own good, really. He didn’t want to hurt him.

 

…

It was cold outside, but not as cold as it could have been.  The sun was peaking out and melting the ice, turning it into slush, and Brendon enjoyed kicking a chunk of it as he walked down the sidewalk.  Valerie had scolded him, telling him not to be so destructive and to stop making a mess.  Brendon, in retaliation, had stuck his tongue out, which earned him the ‘very disappointed’ frown, but it didn’t have the same effect coming from his sister instead of their parents.  He and Kara rolled their eyes and made faces behind her back the rest of the walk there.

 

They’d gotten a ride into town with Mason, who was on his way to class anyways.  They were allowed to ride the bus back home, too, so long as they didn’t talk to anyone strange and were careful about it.  Brendon knew that was dad-talk for ‘don’t talk to any heathens and make sure you don’t leave Brendon behind anywhere.’  That’s what those instructions had always meant in the past.

 

It would have been more convenient for Valerie to drive them there and back, since she had her license and all.  She was only allowed to use it with expressed permission, though, and Mason had needed to take the minivan to class.  That left them with a short walk and a bus ride home, but that was all right.  It kept them out of the house longer.

 

Their final destination was Goodwill, which is where they always shopped for anything other than food.  Their family didn’t have a lot of money, and Goodwill was cheap.  Where else could you get four pairs of jeans for twenty dollars?  That kind of thing mattered in a family of eight.

 

Brendon wrinkled his nose up when they stepped inside.  Goodwill had never smelled particularly pleasant, but wolf senses made it much more intense.  He was picking up on a whole ton of different scents from all directions, and he had to rub his nose and pretend to cough to cover up a gag.

 

“I really need new jeans,” Kara decided, setting off in that direction.  “I had some really cute ones, but Mom threw them out.”

“Those jeans were indecent,” Valerie responded, picking up a long skirt and holding it up to her hips.  She hummed indifferently at it before hanging it back up.  “You can’t go wearing clothes that tight.  You know better.”

 

Valerie was looking at a different skirt now, so she didn’t see Kara roll her eyes.  Brendon chuckled quietly under his breath and took a different skirt down from the rack.  He held it up to his hips and swayed.

 

“Am I pretty yet?” he teased, earning a too-loud laugh from Kara and a scowl from Valerie.  

 

“Give me that,” Valerie snapped, yanking the thing away from Brendon and shoving it back on the rack.

 

“Calm down, V, it was a joke,” Kara said, admiring some indecently tight jeans and making a face at their sister.  “You’d laugh is Matthew did it.”

 

“Yeah, because Matt is normal,” Valerie responded.  She didn’t even look guilty.  Kara shot her an offended look, but Brendon just shrugged, picking up a different skirt.  

 

“You might like this one, V,” he said, holding it out to her.  She raised an eyebrow at him and grinned.

 

…

Spencer was lounging on the couch after school, bored and tired and waiting for Jon to get home from his job at the coffee shop near the mall. Until then, he decided to play Halo. He was extremely bad at it for some reason, and he was tired of Jon kicking his ass every time they played. So he was getting some practice in. He’d show Jon. Next time they played, Spencer was going to win within ten seconds, just you wait, Jon Walker.

 

Zack was home and doing something in the kitchen. He worked as a bartender at some really nice place in a larger neighboring town and got paid like a king. His shift was almost always seven through midnight, so he was always at the apartment when Spencer got home from school. It was nice. Zack was cool, and Spencer didn’t feel lonely so long as he knew someone else was buzzing around.

At the same time, though, Zack could be a major pain in the ass.

 

“Have you started your homework yet?” he asked from the doorway to the living room. Spencer was training to kick some ass. He didn’t have time for homework.

 

“I’ll do it later,” he said. “This is important.”

 

“Your grades are important,” Zack said. “You’ve played this a hundred times, kid.”

 

“I already got into college,” Spencer complained. “Why do I still have to do homework?”

 

Zack walked over and flicked Spencer in the ear, then turned off the xbox. Spencer groaned in protest and flopped over on the couch.

 

“They can kick you out just as quick as they let you in,” Zack said. “Colleges don’t like slackers.”

 

“I’m not a slack- oof!” Zack dropped Spencer’s calculus book on his stomach, and Spencer groaned. The book was ridiculously large.

 

“Damn right. You’re an honors student, somehow. It blows my mind, considering I never see you doing actual homework,” Zack grumbled at him, and Spencer rolled his eyes, which got him another book dropped on his stomach. Government this time. That book wasn’t small either. Spencer was about to give in and do his homework, just the math for now though, since it was easy, but then his phone chirped:

 

just got off work. i’m starving. come get pizza with me

 

Spencer beamed, “Jon’s shift just ended. I gotta go meet him.”  He got up and tossed the books down on the kitchen table, then ran to the front door.

 

“Spencer Smith! If you fail the twelfth grade I will kick your ass!”

 

“I give you every right,” Spencer said, tugging his shoes on. “I’ll do the homework later, I promise.”

 

“You’d better.”

 

“I will.”

“Before I get off work, too. If I come home at one a.m. and find you’re still up, there will be ass kicking!”

 

“As will be deserved,” Spencer replied, finally getting his shoes on and practically throwing himself out the front door. “Bye!”

 

“Fucking puppy…” Spencer heard Zack mutter after he left, and he smiled. Zack loved him.

 

…

 

“What the hell did you do to Zack?” Jon asked as soon as Spencer sat down at their usual booth. There were already two slices of pizza and a can of coke on the table, as always. He took a bite of his pizza.

 

“I didn’t do anything to Zack,” he said.

 

“He just texted me that you’re the reason his hair is thinning.” Jon held up the phone to show Spencer, and he sounded serious, but he was grinning, so Spencer wasn’t concerned.

 

“He was trying to get me to do my homework,” Spencer said, picking up the can of coke to take a drink, but Jon snatched it out of his hand and took a sip first. Spencer glared at him.

 

“You need to do your homework,” Jon said, holding the coke way above his head when Spencer reached for it. “Duh. What’s the matter with you?”

 

“I’m going to do it.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “Who’s the honor student here? Me. I know what I’m doing.”

 

“Zack’s just trying to keep you out of trouble,” he said.

 

“Zack’s just grumpy,” Spencer countered. He really liked Zack though. Zack was great, and he was letting Spencer live in his apartment without charging rent or anything. Maybe Spencer should try to be less irritating…

 

“So are you, puppy,” Jon said, nudging Spencer’s ankle under the table. “Do your fucking homework.”

 

Spencer rolled his eyes again and didn’t even recognize Jon’s demand. “You smell like coffee.”

 

Jon kicked him harder, and Spencer laughed.

 

…

 

“Brendon?” Brendon froze on his way to the fridge, looking for… something. Something sugary. He was hungry, and sugar was awesome. “Could you come in here for a moment?”

 

Brendon sighed and turned around, shuffling into the living room where his father was and slumping down on the couch. His dad didn’t sound angry, so Brendon was guessing that he wasn’t in trouble. Not yet, at least. Matthew was there too, sitting next to his father and looking relaxed. Brendon was confused, but told himself that he could have a conversation with his dad without something bad happening, so he tried to chill. His knee bounced up and down on its own accord, so he just folded his hands in his lap and waited.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“I’d like to talk to you,” Mr. Urie said, giving Brendon a grin, and it made Brendon a bit sad how suspicious he felt. His dad frowned at him. “What happened to your head, boy?”

 

Brendon impulsively reached up to touch his hair, which was sticking up, spiky and hard with hairspray that he’d gotten out of Kara and Valerie’s room. “Oh,” he said. “I was, uhm… just trying to mix it up. Make it look cool.”

 

“You look ridiculous,” his dad said, frowning. “Anyways. You’re getting older, so it’s time that we start talking about your future.”

 

Oh, well, that wasn’t that bad. “Okay,” Brendon said. “Uhm.. what do you want to talk about?”

 

“It’s time we consider your options,” Mr. Urie said. “Once you come back from mission-”

 

“Wait,” Brendon interrupted. “What?”

 

“I’ve been talking to your seminary leader,” he said, smiling. Brendon had actually started attending seminary before school again, the way he was supposed to be doing all along. His parents were scared that he was turning away from the church and wanted to give him guidance, or something, so every morning he joined seven other good-little-mormon kids in Brother Michael’s living room to talk about living in Christ. Brendon was only grateful that his father hadn’t told Brother Michael that he was gay, because really, he didn’t want to hear it. His father would embarrass himself like that, though, so Brendon was safe.

 

“Oh yeah?” Brendon asked, squirming a bit, because what? “What did he say?”

 

“He says that with your energetic personality, you were born to go out on missions. So after you get back, we’ll have to consider-”

 

“Wait,” Brendon interrupted again. “But… Why do I have to go on missions?” he asked.

 

“Well, Brendon,” his dad said, “It’s the will of the Lord.”

 

“It really is a great experience, Bden,” Matthew jumped in, grinning wide the way Matthew always did. It could be pretty convincing sometimes, but….

 

“But I don’t want to go out on missions…” Brendon said, squirming uncomfortably in his seat. “I mean….”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father said. “You’re always talking about getting out of the house, and this is the perfect opportunity.”

 

Brendon frowned because seriously? When he said he wanted to get out of the house, he meant go to the mall, take a walk, go to Spencer’s house, run away and move in California. He didn’t mean taking a bus to God-knows-where, carrying a backpack full of copies of The Book of Mormon around, and having the door slammed in his face a thousand times. Brendon didn’t understand how Matthew could stay so chipper after all of that. Brendon didn’t think he could take it.

 

“That’s… that’s not really what I meant, Dad…” he said, feeling kind of defeated but trying to think fast. “Mason! Mason didn’t go out on missions,” he smiled. Yes, perfect.

 

“Mason is going to university,” his dad argued. “If you decide to go to college, then we can figure out another option. Mason is considering going on missions this summer.” Brendon knew for a fact that Mason actually wasn’t considering that at all. At least, not that he’d ever mentioned it to Brendon. Hmmmm…

 

That brought up another problem though. “What if… what if I don’t want to go to college? Like.. traditional college?” Matthew looked interested, but their dad just looked confused.

 

“What are you talking about, Brendon?” he asked.

Brendon shifted in his seat again, chewing on his lip, because hey. Why not mention it sooner rather than later?

 

“I was, uhm. I talked to my guidance counselor at school about this.  I was.. I was thinking of going into cosmetology…” He could see the look on his father’s face and decided he’d better try to convince him before his dad told him no. “It’s a growing field, and the pay isn’t bad at all. And I know what you’re thinking, but there’s a ton of men in the field now, and I think I’d be pretty good, y’know, I could, like, learn how to cut hair and stuff and be a hairdresser, and if I’m good enough I could open my own shop and really, there are tons of opportunities in the field, and the school is cheap! Really cheap! Way cheaper than going to college, and it doesn’t take as long, so-”

 

“Enough,” his father said.

 

“But…”

 

“Go upstairs and wash that mess out of your hair.”

 

Brendon’s mouth fell open. “But… but dad, really, I’ve looked into this, and-”

 

“Enough, Brendon,” his dad stood up and brushed his pants off. Conversation over. “We’ll talk more about missions when you’re ready to take this seriously. For now, I don’t want to see you again until you look civilized.”

 

“It’s just hairspray…” Brendon murmured, then louder, “Dad, I am taking this seriously.”

 

“Obviously not. Now go.”  He pointed to the stairs.

 

“But…”

 

“Now.” He pulled Brendon up off the couch by his arm, but Brendon quickly yanked his arm away, frowning.

 

“Fine,” he muttered. “Whatever. It’s just hairspray, big fucking deal.” He stomped up the stairs, his father’s shouts of ‘You watch your mouth, young man!’  following after him. Brendon had thought his hair looked really cool, and really, besides playing the piano for the rest of his life, Brendon couldn’t think of any other career he might want to have. He could totally be a hairdresser. How awesome would that be? Totally awesome, he reassured himself. Way more awesome than going on missions.

 

“As if God has plans for me anyways…” he mumbled to himself, before turning the water on to take a shower. Maybe one day he’d tell his father ‘no’ and actually win. That day would be awesome.

 

…

 

“Where the hell is he!?” Spencer demanded, kicking a tree. “He’s going to be late!”

 

“Well, if he’s late, then we’ll hear about it. It’ll be all over the news,” Zack replied. “He’d better get here before the sun goes down.”

 

“He’ll be here,” Jon reassured them, calm as always. “He’s just running late.”

 

Sure enough, Brendon came sprinting into the clearing five minutes later, all sweaty and panting, tripping over his own feet and nearly falling over as he tried to stop. “I’m here!” he shouted. “I’m here! I’m here! Sorry I’m late!”

 

“It’s about time,” Spencer grumbled at him, while Brendon busied himself with pulling his hoodie over his head. It took a bit of effort, but when he finally got it off, his hair was sticking up funny and he was looking at Spencer with an injured expression. Spencer almost felt bad for snapping at him. Almost.

 

“One minute till sun down,” Zack said, cuffing the back of Jon’s neck and shaking him a bit. Jon grinned. “C’mon, take your clothes off.”

 

Spencer wasn’t as shy as he used to be. He stripped down to his boxer shorts, but he kept those on until the last minute. Brendon, on the other hand, wasn’t shy at all. One might think the kid was a natural born werewolf, considering how cuddly he was and how comfortable exposing himself.

 

Spencer noticed that Brendon’s eyes were all red, splotchy, like he’d been crying or something. When Brendon turned around, laughing at something Jon said, Spencer saw bruises. He was curious.

 

“Brendon…” he said. “Are you doing alright?”

 

Brendon looked at him with a surprised expression on his face for a moment, something like guilt radiating off of him before he wrinkled his nose up and smiled.

 

“Yeah, duh Spence, I’m fine. Why?” he laughed too, a short chuckle, but there was something off. Spencer could smell it.

 

“Why were you late tonight?” Spencer asked. He tried not to acknowledge that Zack and Jon were staring at them with cautious eyes.

 

“It’s not a big deal, Spence,” Brendon said.  Something sad or tired was seeping into his expression.

 

“Is there something going on?” Spencer asked, sounding more accusatory than he meant to. Brendon glared at him.

 

“Drop it, Spencer,” he said, crossing his arms.

 

“Guys...” Zack interjected, which was probably good, because Spencer and Brendon were about to be at each other’s throats, obviously. He stared them down for a moment before looking at Brendon more gently. “Brendon, if there’s anything you need to talk about-”

 

“There isn’t,” Brendon cut him off quickly. “Seriously, seriously, seriously, everything is great. Oh look! Sunset! Let’s get to it then, huh?” He didn’t wait for Zack’s ‘okay’ before changing into his wolf form and bounding into the woods. The others didn’t have much of an option; they followed him.

 

 

...

Afterwards, Brendon pretended to be exhausted (“Carry me, Zack, I’m sleep deprived!” Zack didn’t have much choice, and he laughed and caught Brendon when the kid threw himself into his arms). Spencer could tell that he wasn’t actually that tired, but he decided not to point it out. If Brendon wanted to keep secrets, then Spencer wasn’t going to push him. Besides, he actually was exhausted. He didn’t have the energy to argue with Brendon anymore. He’d bring it up again after they’d all gotten up in the (late) morning.

 

Brendon surprised them all, hours later, by being gone when they woke up. Zack was worried, and he called up the short guy (the one Spencer remembered from his house. He’d been pretending to be a werewolf but hadn’t had the right scent. He was the one with the funny voice that sounded more convincing than it should have). Seconds later, the guy appeared with a puff of smoke on the couch next to Spencer (Spencer jumped out of his skin, and Jon chuckled at him) aggressively shaking Spencer’s hand and introducing himself as “Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third, Prince of the Fay, you are very pleased to meet me!” Spencer was more than a little shocked, and thankfully, after the weirdo prince whatever guy closed his eyes for a moment and reassured Zack that Brendon had made it home fine, he was asleep in bed, he disappeared in a cloud of smoke and glitter. Spencer sneezed.

 

Spencer let Peter-Lewis-whatever-the-third’s words reassure him. Brendon was fine, asleep in bed and fine. Spencer had nothing to worry about.

 

…

 

The following morning was absolute and total hell. Brendon was glad at least that the sun was setting later. As soon as devotions was over, he’d said he had a headache, he was going to bed, please leave him alone. When no one was paying attention, which took longer than he’d expected, he snuck out the back and ran all the way to the park. He’d almost been late. He did the same thing once they all got back to the apartment in the morning. As soon as the others were asleep, he ran back home, crawled into bed silently, and slept for an hour.

 

The only person who knew he’d been gone was Mason, and he hadn’t even said anything. Brendon had never loved his brother so much in his life. He could hardly believe he’d gotten away with it.

 

That morning, he told his mom that he still had a headache. He asked if he could stay home, and his mom almost said yes, until his dad barged into the room and said no, Brendon was going to school, take some aspirin and get. Drats. Drats drats drats. Right before he left, Mason grabbed him and said that Brendon needed to be more careful, he’d almost gotten caught, but Mason had covered for him.

Brendon seriously, seriously had an amazing brother. He sure was lucky sometimes.

 

Things went downhill after that, though. He’d hardly slept at all, and he was totally exhausted. He fell asleep in English, and no matter how much he pleaded, his teacher gave him detention. Brendon was convinced that she was biased against him because he’d had all his siblings in class, and Matthew hated English, and Kara was a smart ass. Brendon had detention, and he was totally going to get it when he got home.

 

He forgot his lunch at home, too, and he didn’t have any money on him to buy anything. Normally it would have been fine, just a bit uncomfortable, to skip lunch. But ever since the werewolf fiasco, Brendon couldn’t ever seem to get enough to eat. He was always starving, even when he ate well. Skipping lunch was practically torture, so he hid in the library and waited to die. Later, his biology teacher caught him texting Spencer under his desk (‘srsly spence im fine pinky promise xoxo’) and confiscated his phone, telling Brendon that he wouldn’t get it back until he brought a signed note from his parents.

 

Yeah. Yeah… Brendon was totally going to get it when he got home.

 

After school, Brendon stopped his sisters in the hallway and told them he’d be late getting home because he had detention, but really it wasn’t his fault, and could they maybe try to break the news softly before he got home. Valerie had been pissed off at him for like… breathing… or something, which totally bummed him out. Thanks, Val. Like he wasn’t having a shitty day already.

 

“You sure are asking for it,” she said, after saying a few other things. The bell was about to ring, and Brendon was going to have to run to detention before he got into any more trouble. Still, he couldn’t help himself.

 

“Sorry to inconvenience you, princess,” he grumbled, and she glared at him before storming away. Great. Just great. Now she was mad at him. Even worse, Brendon ended up being late for detention, so the supervisor yelled at him a lot and sentenced him to lunch detention the next day. Brendon sat at his desk and wondered if he could do enough damage with his pencil to kill himself. Probably not. He settled for poking boredly at a spot on his forearm until it started bleeding, then watching as the irritated spot completely healed itself right before his eyes.

 

Okay… so maybe his werewolf powers were a little cool.

 

…

 

“We haven’t seen Brendon since the full moon,” Zack said over dinner, “Do you think he’s doing alright?”

 

Zack and Jon both looked at Spencer, who looked back with wide eyes. Oh. “I’ve been texting him. He seems alright. Said that he’s just been really busy with family stuff.”

 

They nodded, and Zack didn’t bring it up again. Spencer didn’t know if he believed Brendon, and he wasn’t sure that Zack and Jon did either. But if Brendon wasn’t willing to ask for help, well… they couldn’t really do anything. And maybe he was telling the truth, and nothing was wrong. Then he wouldn’t need help anyways… Maybe he was just being paranoid about Brendon and Ryan. For all he knew, they were fine.

  


…

 

Spencer made up his mind on a Wednesday, when Ryan cornered him in the senior hallway and called him every bad word Spencer had ever heard (plus a few), stomped on his foot, and stormed away, leaving the entire hallway gaping at Spencer. Spencer was gaping too, because what………

 

Then he remembered. It was the last week of April, and that was a big deal. Ryan’s mom had left at that time, when Ryan was four, and his dad would spend the whole week drunk and bitter. Ryan and Spencer had spent the night of April 26th together every year since Ryan told him five years ago, even if it was a school night, because that was the day his mom left and his dad was the worst.

 

Every single year, and Spencer had never forgotten.

 

Until this year.

 

He and Jon had went out and saw a movie, and he hadn’t even thought about it.

 

Oh my God….

 

“Ryan!” Spencer hollered, shoving his way down the hallway to run after him.

“Ryan! Wait up!” People were gawking at him again, and a few girls glared at him for being loud, but Spencer didn’t care at the moment, because he’d totally broken Ryan’s heart.

 

“Ryan! Ryan, God damn it, stop!” Luckily, Ryan hated running almost more than anything else, and Spencer’s werewolf stamina could have kept him going for miles. He caught Ryan by the cafeteria and pulled him into it, since it was empty at this early hour. Ryan was pissed, yanking at his arm and cussing at Spencer to let him go, which eventually Spencer did. Ryan glowered at him.

 

“What?” for a little kid, Ryan could be pretty intimidating when he was mad.

 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said. Ryan scoffed and tried to storm away again, but Spencer grabbed his wrist. “Ryan. Ryan, come on, just listen.”

 

Ryan glared at him for a moment, then glared down at Spencer’s hold on his wrist and tugged. “Let me go.”

 

He did that, drawing his hands back to himself. He knew he hadn’t been holding Ryan strong enough to hurt him. He was getting better at that stuff.

 

“I’m sorry I forgot… I have a lot going on.”

 

Ryan huffed and rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot…”

 

“Let me explain! Ryan, please…” he glanced around nervously, double checking that they were alone. “I can explain what’s going on, but not here. After school, okay? In the woods behind my house.”

 

Ryan crossed his skinny arms and glared Spencer down. “So now you have time for me, huh? Now that you’ve left me alone on the absolute worst fucking day of the year, you think that you can just ‘explain everything’ and it’ll be fine!?”

“Ryan,” Spencer sighed. “Please….”

 

Ryan shook his head slowly. “Fine,” he said. “Fine, whatever. Woods behind your house, so you can show me your freaky little secrets, whatever.” The bell rang, and Ryan scowled. “Great. Now I’m late for class. See you around, asshole.”

 

…

 

Spencer didn’t tell Zack what he was doing, because Zack would probably murder him. He didn’t tell Jon either, because Jon would tell him it was a bad idea, give him that disappointed look when Spencer did it anyways, and probably tell Zack, who would murder him. He’d deal with the consequences later, but really, he had to do this.

 

Ryan was his best friend, or at least, he had been until everything got weird. Now they hardly spoke; Spencer didn’t know anything that was going on with Ryan, if things were good or bad, how he was holding up, and he hadn’t even remembered the most important day of the entire year.

 

Spencer was such an asshole, but he thought that maybe this would be enough to fix things. If he did this, Ryan would trust him again, and things could go back to normal- well, not normal. But back to how they had been before. Back when Spencer was the rock that Ryan always leaned on, they told each other everything, and things were good. Back before Spencer had gotten a secret that was too big to tell.

 

Well, not anymore.

 

Ryan was late arriving to the woods, so Spencer busied himself with leaning against a tree and focusing on exactly how he was going to do this. He was going to tell Ryan he had a secret to tell him. That he needed to show him for it to make sense. He’d tell him not to freak out, please, while he started taking his clothes off (that was gonna be awkward…). He’d change over, make sure he approached Ryan really slowly and gently so he wouldn’t get scared and run away. He’d turn back and tell him all about what had happened, why he wasn’t around anymore. He’d explain everything, and it’d be fine again. Everything would be fine.

 

Ten minutes late, and Spencer started to get a bit nervous. Fifteen and he was fidgeting as bad as Brendon did on a normal day. By twenty-five he was sitting at the base of the tree and tearing a leaf to shreds, tiny pieces getting ripped into tinier pieces. He was just about to go home around four o’clock, when he heard Ryan rustling through the woods and saw him. Spencer jumped up and wiped his hands on his jeans.

 

“Ryan! Hey, I thought you weren’t coming,” he said, and was about to tell Ryan that he had a surprise for him, but then he caught his scent. He stopped.

 

“Ryan? What’s wrong?”

 

Ryan hung back, leaning against a tree. He rubbed his nose on his wrist.  He was crying.

 

“Ry, hey,” he walked over to Ryan, “What happened?”

 

“Nothing,” Ryan sniffed and wiped more snot on his hand, wincing. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Did something happen with your dad?” Spencer asked.

 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he muttered. He kept his gaze down on the forest floor, and it was infuriating. Ryan was shutting him out, but Spencer just wanted to help.

 

“Let me take you back to Zack. He’ll let you stay there tonight.” Spencer put his hand on Ryan’s arm, but Ryan pulled away from him.

 

“You said Zack wouldn’t like me coming over….” He glared Spencer down, accusing. Why did he have to be so damned stubborn?

 

“He won’t mind. Something’s wrong.  You shouldn’t stay at home with… him,” Spencer insisted.

 

“I can take care of myself, so thanks, but no,” Ryan huffed and turned to leave. “Screw it. I’m going home.”

 

Spencer grabbed his wrist. “Ryan, hold on. Let me help you!”

 

“I don’t need any help,” Ryan tried to yank his arm free, but Spencer wasn’t letting him go this time.

 

“Ryan, please-”

 

“Why do you care? You’ve ignored me for months, and now you want to come save me or something!? This shit has been happening the entire time, and you never noticed, so fuck you. Stop pretending to care.”

 

“Ryan, I do care! Stop being stupid!” He tightened his grip on Ryan and tried to pull him back, but the wave of panic he felt sweep over Ryan startled him into letting go. Ryan fell over, too much force putting into trying to pull away, and he clutched his arm to his chest while glaring up at Spencer.

 

“Leave me alone, Spencer,” he muttered. “I don’t need your help.” He got up and ran. Spencer’s skin itched to go after him, but he didn’t want to scare him again. He just wanted to help. Why wouldn’t Ryan let him help? He hadn’t been ignoring Ryan. It wasn’t his fault. Things had just happened. He hadn’t done it on purpose. He hadn’t done any of this on purpose.

 

But now he hadn’t even gotten the chance to explain. Well fine. If Ryan didn’t want Spencer’s help, then he would stop trying. Whatever. Ryan was a big boy. He could handle it. What-the-fuck-ever, Ryan Ross.

 

Irritated, he let his claws form on his hands and sliced at a nearby tree, which turned out to be an incredibly stupid idea. The tree was harder and stronger than he’d expected, and he had to spend a moment nursing his hand and cussing at the tree before the pain subsided. Fucking tree. Fucking Ryan. Fucking Spencer’s stupid fucking ideas. How could he have thought that he could make anything better that easily? Maybe Ryan didn’t need him anymore (although Spencer had an idea that he really, really did) but Spencer was slowly realizing that he just might need Ryan.

 

Everything had changed on him so quickly, and it wasn’t bad the way things shook out. He didn’t really regret it, but at the same time, he wanted everything back. He wanted to go back to when he first met Jon, back when he had his family and Haley and Ryan and he just started having a great new friend and he didn’t have any reason to worry about Brendon and… he wanted to go back to when things made more sense. He really just wanted his best friend back…

 

He’d been in the woods for a while, and he figured he should start heading somewhere, rather than hanging out there like a weirdo. Ryan wasn’t going to come back outside. Spencer didn’t feel like going to the apartment and being questioned about his bad mood. Zack could be irritably insistent, and Jon had this way of being totally calm and silent until Spencer couldn’t take it anymore and spilled. But then they’d be mad at him. They hadn’t told him directly, but he was pretty sure there were a few rules against telling mortals that you’re a werewolf.

 

He wasn’t scared of them or anything, but he didn’t feel like getting yelled at, so he decided not to go back. Just for a while, anyways. He’d hang out around town some place, until he was calmed down enough to pass for ‘fine,’ and then he’d go home. It was only four thirty. He had time.

 

…

 

Spencer had walked around town for a while before getting bored. There were too many people, too much traffic, too many restaurants cooking and it was all too loud and bright and smelly and annoying. It gave him a headache, so he kept walking until he found the bridge. It was an ancient, rickety thing buried deep in the woods.  It took a good twenty minutes of walking to find it, but the thing was huge and totally worth it.  The bridge used to be one of his favorite places when he was a kid.  He’d ride his bike to it and stand on the railing, looking down the twelve foot gap between the bridge and the water and looking for turtles. Sometimes he’d scale down the side of the bridge and play at the edge of the creek, trying to catch frogs and getting himself all muddy.

 

He’d shown the place to Ryan too, but Ryan had refused to let Spencer teach him how to swim. One time Spencer tried to make him get in the water anyways (he was kind of an asshole, when he was a little kid…) and Ryan had started crying, ran all the way back to Spencer’s house and tattled on him. Spencer chuckled, thinking about that.

 

“You are really good at hide and seek.”

 

A voice next to Spencer startled him out of his thoughts and he actually screamed, jumping back because he totally hadn’t heard that guy approach him, and he should have been able to, with his wolf senses and all. The guy laughed, and when Spencer squinted in the evening light, he realized it was

Peter-whatever-the-third, prince of the fags, or something. He scowled.

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

 

His royal highness just look amused. “Zack sent me after you. Have you ever thought of answering your cell phone? He and Jon have been going out of their minds trying to find you.”

 

Spencer blinked a few times. “They’ve been looking for me?”

 

“It’s nine o’clock, genius.” It looked like the short guy actually floated up and sat on the railing of the bridge. “You were supposed to be home six hours ago, and while I’m sure Zack’s not keeping you on a tight leash or anything, not answering your phone tends to freak people out.”

 

Spencer pulled his phone out to check and, oh… eight missed calls from Zack and Jon. Well shit… “Oh….”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“Shit….”

 

“Yeah, Zack’s gonna kill you. C’mon, let’s get you home before he freaks out and kills both of us.”  The guy hopped off the bridge, and before Spencer could protest, he clapped his hands and they were suddenly standing in the apartment.

Something about that crazy psycho unnatural method of transportation made Spencer’s head spin, and he ended up falling over, hitting the floor with a thump. When he opened his eyes, the weird guy was staring down at him with a raised eyebrow. Zack and Jon were there too, and Zack was scowling at him. Oh shit.

 

“Thanks Pete,” Jon said, while Zack grabbed Spencer by the back of his jacket and hauled him to his feet. Spencer swayed, still dizzy, and Zack kept his hands firmly on Spencer’s shoulders. It made him feel sturdier.

 

“No problem, wolfies. Just call if the puppy runs away again.” He winked, and then he was gone in a puff of smoke. Spencer sneezed. Fucking fairies…

 

“Dinner is on the stove if you want it,” Zack said, letting go of Spencer, and Spencer just about fell over. Fucking fairies. “I called off work tonight, so now I’m going to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.” He sent Spencer a stern look before heading to his bedroom and closing the door. Spencer frowned a bit, watching him. Sometimes Zack was able to make him feel two feet tall….

 

“C’mon, you hungry?” Jon asked, heading for the kitchen and putting food on a plate. “He’s pretty mad, you know. You scared the hell out of us.”

 

Spencer frowned. Jon sounded kind of mad too. He went into the kitchen and slumped down at the table, while Jon put the plate in the microwave and pressed start.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stay out that late,” he said.

 

Jon leaned back against the counter and looked at him for a moment. Spencer glanced up at him nervously, and then Jon grinned. “Just answer your fucking phone next time.” Jon laughed as he said it. “Asshole.”

 

Spencer couldn’t help but smiling as a carrot flew off the stove and hit him in the ear. He scooped it up and threw it back.

 

Jon grinned. “Glad to see you smiling. You’re too pretty not too.”

 

Spencer wrinkled his nose up, because excuse you, what? “Fuck you, I’m not pretty.”

 

“Sure you aren’t,” Jon was such a dick.

 

“I’m a man!”

 

“Of course you are, princess.” Jon kissed the top of Spencer’s head as he set his plate on the table in front of him, and Spencer tried to swat him away. Jon just giggled and poked Spencer in the ear.

 

“Eat, puppy. That way you’ll grow up to be big and strong.”

 

“Oh my God,” Spencer rolled his eyes and shoved a some rise in his mouth before sticking his tongue out at Jon.

 

“Sexy.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Not tonight, princess.”

 

“Oh my God, shut up….”

 

…

 

“And that is the way God made it, a perfect system, one man and one woman to be united together forever. This system allows for childbearing, for different personalities to unite together. The man is the leader, strong and providing for his family, and the wife is obedient under him and trusting. This is God’s perfect design, and anyone who goes against this design, who does not fulfill their duties to God, is sinning. How dare someone think that they know better than God?”

 

Brendon slouched in his seat as the sermon dragged on. It had been a bad day from the moment he’d woken up.  He didn’t know how to describe it, but the whole world just felt grey.  He kind of felt like throwing up, but not in the I’m-actually-physically-ill-I-have-the-flu kind of way, more like the I’m-so-disgusted-yet-also-guilty-and-I’m-not-sure-how-to-handle-this-internal-conflict kind of way. This was his least favorite kind of sermon. Gender roles and God’s plan and obedience. Gross. Obedience… what was the point of that anyways? What if the person bossing you around didn’t really know what was best for you? What if they told you to do the wrong thing? If they did, but you had to listen to them anyways, so you wouldn’t be disobedient… well, that was bad, right? Why should you let someone have that kind of power over you?

 

Why should his dad have the power he did over him? Why should his mom be scared to step in and tell his dad to stop being an asshole, just because God told her to be obedient to her husband? How was any of that fair?

 

He glanced over and saw his dad shooting him a look, so he sighed and sat up straight, tried to make himself look attentive. This was going to be a long day…

After service, Brendon followed the rest of his family as they filed out of the chapel area. Youth group would start in five minutes, where they would all sit around and talk about the sermon. Brendon didn’t feel like hearing a bunch of teenagers who were better than he was talk about how excited they were to fulfill God’s role for them, while he sat there miserably and thought about how he wasn’t fit for his role. He couldn’t be strong and reliable, and he didn’t want to have a little wife following him around and doing whatever he said. He didn’t know what he wanted, but it wasn’t that…

 

“Mom?” he asked, leaning against her a bit. “Can I not go to youth group?”

 

“Oh sweetie, are you feeling alright?” she asked, turning to him and pressing her hand to his forehead, feeling for a fever. “You looked a little flushed… Do you have a headache?”

 

“What’s the matter with him now?” his dad said, turning to them and scowling. Brendon felt himself shrink.

 

“I feel fine, Mom,” Brendon said quietly. “I just… can I please just wait in the car until it’s time to go home? Please?”

 

His mom opened her mouth to speak, but his father barrelled over. “If you’re not sick, then there’s no reason you can’t go to youth group. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Brendon scowled. “I didn’t ask you…” he said it without thinking about it, and regretted it instantly. The look his father gave him was like a volcano, just about to burst.

 

“Excuse me, young man, do you want to repeat that?” he asked, a bit too loud, and now people were staring at them.

 

“I don’t want to go,” Brendon said, not bothering to apologize for what he’d said. “Why can’t I just wait in the car, I already sat through the whole damned sermon.”

 

His dad’s eyebrows shot up, and now even more people were staring at them. Brendon could tell what they were thinking. How dare he? Where was the respect? What an awful child! Blah blah blah…

 

“I do not appreciate your attitude, young man,” his dad said. Brendon scoffed, and he watched his dad turn red with anger.

 

“Brendon Boyd, you have three seconds to march yourself towards the youth room, otherwise I am going to put you over my knee right here and embarrass you in front of everyone,” his father threatened, and Brendon flushed red, mouth falling open. Somebody actually laughed, and Brendon was about ready to die from embarrassment.

 

“This is bullshit,” he muttered, under his breath and stormed away, towards the youth room, but his father grabbed his upper arm and yanked him back.

“What did you just say to me?” he demanded, and Brendon swallowed a growl in his throat before responding.

 

“I said that this is bullshit,” he said loudly, glaring at his father. “Sir.”

 

His father slapped him across the face, and Brendon gasped. “Don’t you dare speak to me that way.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

 

“I will deal with you later,” Brendon swallowed the lump in his throat and hung his head, whatever bravery he’d had a minute ago flooding out of him. “Now get yourself to youth group before I give you my belt right here.”

 

Brendon ripped his arm free from his father’s grasp and ran out of the room, because fuck him. Fuck him and fuck all the people who were staring at him and whispering and fuck that stupid kid who laughed. He sat away from everyone else in youth group and didn’t say a word the whole time. They didn’t try talking to him either, at least. Which was good. Brendon didn’t know if he could face them after being so humiliated. He didn’t talk the whole way home either, and the van was tense. Nobody said a word.

 

…

 

“Brendon?” his mom knocked gently on his door before letting herself in. Brendon was laying face first on his bed, trying to smother himself again with his pillow and wondering how long it would take what he’d done to his arm to heal up. The pencil holes had taken ten minutes, so this might take half an hour. It was well hidden by his hoodie anyways, so it didn’t matter. And something else hurt a lot worse anyways, so he just paid attention to that.

 

“What?” he asked, muffled by his pillow. His mom sat on the edge of his bed and pet Brendon’s hair gently.

 

“Things have been really difficult between you and your father lately,” she said, petting him. Brendon liked being petted. It felt nice.  Maybe it was a wolf thing, but maybe it was just a Brendon thing.  “And I know this is very hard for you. He’s just having a hard time adjusting, Brendon. He doesn’t know how to handle you growing up, starting to make your own decisions and be your own person.”

 

“He should have plenty of practice at that,” Brendon said. “I’m the youngest….”

 

“That’s what makes it so hard, sweetie,” she said. “You’re our little boy. And you’re still so young. We don’t want you to grow up yet.”

 

Brendon just sniffled. He really didn’t have anything to say. What his father was doing to him wasn’t right, no matter how his mother tried to justify it.  He was pretty sure about that.

 

“I just wanted to let you know, that I wish he wasn’t being so hard on you, but this will get better, sweet heart. You’ll both grow past this.”

 

Brendon didn’t have a response for that either, so he didn’t try to give one. After a moment, his mom sighed and kissed his head. “I love you, Brendon. It’ll be alright, sweetie.”

 

He didn’t say it back, even though he felt it. He just tried not to cry while she left and closed the door behind her.

 

…

 

Brendon wasn’t even sure why the argument started. He had been doing something, and his dad had snapped at him. Brendon said something sarcastic back, and soon they were both screaming at each other. It had been a few weeks since the big event at church, and things had calmed down just a little. He’d started thinking that maybe his mom was right; maybe it’d get better.

 

But then this happened. This always happened, and Brendon was sick of it. He wasn’t even sad anymore. He didn’t care if he disappointed his father, at least, not as much as he had. Now he was just mad.

 

“Why do you always do this?” he yelled. “Do you get off on picking on me or something?”

 

“You are acting hysterical!” his dad yelled back. “I ask you to do one little thing, and you act like a brat! You’re ungrateful! Do you know how much it takes to support this family? To feed you, clothe you, send you to school? Do you even care?”

 

“Oh my God!” Brendon threw his hands up in the air. “You’re supposed to do that shit! You’re my father! It’s not my fault you decided not to wear a condom!”

 

“Brendon Boyd Urie!”

 

No one was home except for Brendon’s mother and his older brother Mason. The others had all gone out for the night, to see a movie or something, but Mason wanted to study, and Brendon was grounded. As always. Brendon watched as his mother started to tear up and then left the room.

 

“Do you see what you’ve caused?” his father demanded. “Are you happy now? You make your mother cry!”

 

“You act like all of this is my fault!” Brendon actually laughed out loud, but he felt like crying. “You’re the one who picks fights with me!”

 

“You are defiant and are acting atrociously. You may think that you’re an adult, young man, but you are sorely mistaken!” Mr. Urie shook his finger at Brendon as he stepped forward, but Brendon clenched his fists and stood his ground. He felt his hands shifting, his teeth starting to ache, but no. No. He had to keep himself together. He could do this.

 

Mason was standing in the doorway now, arms crossed and tired expression on his face. He was as sick of the fighting as everyone else. Brendon would have felt guilty, but he was too busy being mad.

 

“I have had enough of you today. Go to your room,” his father had lowered his voice but still had the edge in it, meaning he could snap any second. Brendon should have listened, but he didn’t want to.

 

“No,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. If you’re so sick of me, then you leave.”

 

“Brendon, I am warning you-”

 

“I’m not scared.”

 

“You go up to your room right now and wait for me,” his father ordered, and Brendon locked his jaw.

 

“Why?” he asked. “So you can beat me again? Because that’s obviously worked wonderfully so far, Dad.”

 

“Brendon!”

 

“I’m not scared of you!” Brendon yelled, even though he was, actually. Terrified. He was trembling.

 

“Brendon, go upstairs, right now,” his father grabbed for his arm, but Brendon shoved him, hard.

 

“Don’t touch me!” he yelled, and his father stumbled backwards, knocking into the table and almost falling over. Mason gasped.

 

“Oh that is it!” his father practically roared, lunging for him with a fist. Brendon’s body reacted before his mind did, and suddenly he was blocking his dad’s arm in his hand, nails sharpened into claws and digging into his father’s skin, making it bleed.

“I’m not going to let you hit me anymore!” he screamed. What happened next scared even him. A deep, menacing growl came deep from inside his throat as he lunged forward, knocking his dad to the ground and shifting midair until-

 

“Brendon!” Mason yelled out and then strong arms were pulling him back, throwing him to the side as Brendon shifted entirely back into his human form and stumbled sideways. He hit his head against the counter as he went down, but that didn’t even concern him. His father was laying on the ground, bleeding and looking at him with huge, horrified eyes. Brendon had just…. Brendon had just snapped.

He’d just attacked his father.

 

He hadn’t bitten him, but his claws had pierced several holes in his arm. He’d been strong enough to shove his father to the ground; his father, who was eight inches taller and a hundred pounds heavier than him.

 

Mason stood between them, glancing cautiously at Brendon, his arms out to separate them, and his mom stood in the doorway, hand over his mouth and crying, looking directly at Brendon like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Brendon couldn’t believe it either.

 

“D-dad… I…”

 

“No,” Mr. Urie got shakily to his feet and backed away, glaring Brendon down. “No, you go get your things, and you get out of here. Being a faggot was bad enough, but I will not, under any circumstances accept this. Get out of my sight.”

 

Brendon was pretty sure that everything had just exploded all around him, “But.. But Dad…”

 

“You’re not my son,” Mr. Urie said, shaking his head and turning away. “The devil’s got you.  Get out.”

 

Brendon stared at his father for a moment, before looking at Mason, then his mother. Mason kept blinking, like he couldn’t believe his eyes, like he was waiting for Brendon to change over again at any second and rip his throat out. He looked scared. His mother looked…. Brendon couldn’t actually read her expression, but she didn’t smell scared. She just smelled sad.

 

“Mom?” he asked quietly, glancing at his father before looking back at her.  ‘Please don’t do this’ he pleaded silently.  ‘Say something.’

 

“Brendon….” her voice was very quiet, choked up. “I think it would be best for you to leave.”

  
And that was it… His parents didn’t want him. His brother was scared of him. It took him less than ten minute to shove all of his clothes and a few of his things in a suitcase, all of his school things in his backpack. He didn’t know where else he could possibly go, so a half an hour later, he was knocking on the door to Spencer’s apartment.


	4. Things Are Shaping Up to Be Pretty Odd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack doesn’t remember signing up to take care of weird kids. The only thing Spencer is certain of is that he really has no idea what’s going on. Jon just might have a secret. And Brendon’s convinced that so long as he tries and acts like he’s fine, he will be, and nobody needs to know anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED :) 
> 
> This is the last chapter of this section, but the story actually isn’t done yet (obviously. I mean look at that cliff hanger! wait you haven't read it yet... you'll see) There’s going to be lots of ‘books’ and side stories on this, so this is only the beginning *rubs hands together manically*. As you may have noticed, the story switched names! It is now “Book One: something about pinetrees…>_>” instead of wolf!verse. That’s because the whole thing is wolf!verse now. So. Yeah. Keep your eyes peeled for Book Two, which will probably have a stupid title too

_The Catholic church has yet to release a statement regarding the situation at hand.  No other churches have released public statements yet, but there seems to be a consensus across the board from christianity to islam: werewolves are quite possibly people suffering from demonic possession.  Take that with a grain of salt, of course.  However, with shape shifters among us, who has reason to question the existence of demons?  Battles are taking place in some areas of the country, where church and state are fighting against each other.  Many state governments want to outlaw exorcisms as an attempt to heal these so called "werewolves," and the churches are simply saying, "Stay out of our business.  What we are doing is a family affair, not a government one."_

_Churches that remained steadfast in the recent rise of homosexuality are likely to hold negative positions on this new party's fight for their rights as well.  The Mormon Church says they are hosting a conference soon to figure out their stand on this new debacle.  An online blogger wrote that their pastor at a Missouri Synod Lutheran Church said in a sermon last Sunday, "If you find out that someone you are close to is participating in these dark activities, cast them from your life until they give themselves back to the Lord for healing."  The Seventh Day Adventist church warns us, "...these are the beasts the Good Book predicted."_

_It's not going to be an easy fight for these people.  I'm just waiting for the Westboro Baptist Church to start picketing court houses and wolf rallies with "God Hates Wolves" signs, so we know that they've really joined the party._

 

...

It was quieter than he was used to, the only sounds those of steady breathing from the other guys asleep in the apartment. Spencer’s bed was soft, but larger than Brendon’s at home, and it felt really empty. Everything felt foreign, and even though that day had been horrible and exhausting, he didn’t feel horrible or exhausted.  He felt fine, kind of upset, but mostly fine, and he was wide awake.

He rolled onto his side and looked around. The room was very ‘Spencer-like.’ There wasn’t any clutter, and everything was lined up nicely or stacked or put into order. The bed had been perfectly made when he’d first came into the room, and the only thing out of order was Brendon’s bags tossed lazily in the corner.

Brendon heard whispering, so he knew that someone else was up. It was probably Jon and Spencer, but Brendon decided to be polite and not eavesdrop. It would be bad, after they’d taken him in so quickly and taken care of him, to start being annoying and rude.  He had to be good if he wanted these guys to let him stay.

Still, he couldn’t sleep and he had school in… eight hours. It was only midnight, but it felt like later. The long walk in the dark from his house to the apartment had made the night seem to last forever, but it hadn’t actually been late when he’d gotten there. They’d talked for a few hours, and then Zack had ordered them all to bed, said they could figure everything out in the morning, but they needed to sleep first.

But Brendon couldn’t sleep, and it was driving him crazy. His brain felt panicky, and the rest of him felt twitchy. He was lucky, he reminded himself. Super lucky that he had a place to stay, and that Zack and Jon and Spencer were being so nice to him. Right after knocking on the door, Spencer had thrown it open, taken one look at him, and then dragged him inside. When Brendon had asked Zack if he could crash, just for a night, and then get out of their hair, Zack had squeezed his shoulder and said, “You’re part of the pack, kid. You can stay here forever, if you want to. Don’t think we’re letting you run off if you have no where to stay.” When Brendon had started crying for God-knows-what-reason, it had been a long day, Jon had pulled him into a hug and whispered really stupid dirty jokes to him until he was giggling too hard to keep crying.

He had been feeling okay, with all of them there distracting him, but now the apartment was quiet and Brendon was alone with his thoughts, and it sucked. Despite what had happened, Brendon wanted to be home. But that was just too bad, and he’d have to suck it up and get used to this. He listened to the sounds of Spencer and Jon whispering, until they faded away, and Brendon was pretty sure they had fallen asleep. Brendon himself didn’t pass out until 4 a.m., and even then, he didn’t get a lot of rest.

 

…

When he woke up in the morning, the first thing he thought was ‘bacon,’ because the apartment reeked of it, the scent floating through every room, potent enough to wake him up from a dream about Sir Elton John and a waterpark.

Brendon wasn’t even disappointed, actually, because when he got up and wandered into the kitchen, there was definitely bacon. Bacon and other things. His stomach growled.

Zack turned and grinned at him. “Good morning,”

“Morning,” Brendon said, sniffing the air and following his nose to a giant plate of bacon. He tried to take a piece, but Zack picked the plate up and set it on top of the refrigerator. Brendon pouted. Zack was totally blocking the fridge, and that just wasn’t fair. Didn’t he know that Brendon was a growing boy? A growing werewolf boy with needs? Needs for bacon. Lots and lots of bacon.

“Go wake Spencer,” Zack said, just as Jon stumbled sleepily into the kitchen and sagged down at the table, yawning and scratching the back of his neck, eyes barely open.

“Bacon? Zack, you do love me,” Brendon heard Jon mumble, while he ducked out of the kitchen and down the hall to where he smelled Spencer. When he opened the bedroom door, he saw a wolf cub curled up in the bed, half under the covers, squeezed haphazardly into Spencer’s pajamas. It looked silly, and Brendon couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Spencer woke up, blinking his eyes open slowly and looking curiously at Brendon, before stretching his jaw wide in a yawn and then shifting. Human Spencer appeared where wolf Spencer had been and grinned, sleepily, sitting up and stretching his arms above his head.

“I smell bacon,” he said, voice heavy with sleep, as he tried to tug his clothes back into proper position, not all caddywhompus.

“Zack made breakfast,” Brendon explained, starting to fidget because he was really hungry. He hadn’t eaten dinner the night before, and if he didn’t eat soon, he was probably going to like, die, or something. Spencer got up out of bed and went into the kitchen, Brendon following close behind him, watching as Spencer stole the plate off the top of the fridge when Zack was focused on something else and shoving three pieces of bacon in his mouth. He tossed one to Brendon, who caught it and grinned, grateful.

“Give me that,” Zack grumbled, snatching the plate back and shooing Spencer and Brendon towards the table.

Jon was slumped onto the table, head down and nose smooshed against the cool wood, fogging it up with every breath. Spencer sat down next to him and ran his fingers through the hair on the back of Jon’s head while Zack set several plates of food down on the table. Brendon’s mouth started to water. He took the plate of bacon all to himself and was busy putting as much as he could manage onto his own plate.

“You and Spence can stay home from school today, but we have a few things to talk about,” Zack said, all business as he sat down at the table. “I guess we could start with talking about school.”

“Yeah? What about school?”

Bzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzt. They all turned their attention to the buzzing thing on the kitchen counter- Brendon’s cellphone. They seemed to be in a trance for a moment, no one blinking or moving or breathing, all attention focused on the phone, until Zack spoke.

“Are you going to answer that?”

Brendon knew there were only a certain number of people who could be calling him, and all of them were family, so. “No.”  He was honestly surprised that his parents hadn’t removed him from the phone plan yet.

Zack was staring at him carefully, but Brendon kept his head down and focused on eating. He was starving, and he didn’t feel like making eye contact or talking to people who didn’t want him, so….

“Alright… well,” Zack said. “What grade are you in?”

Brendon swallowed hard.  “Ninth.”

Zack nodded.  “The school on this side of town goes from sixth to twelfth, but it wouldn’t make sense to switch you this close to the end of the year.  I have a car.  How about Jon or I drive you to school for the rest of the year and we can transfer you for tenth grade in the fall?”

Half of his food was gone already (his mom had always yelled at him for eating too fast..), and Brendon contemplated this over a piece of bacon. Of all the things that had raced through his mind the night before, he hadn’t actually thought about school. “Can’t I just switch schools now?”

Jon had finally woken up and was now blinking slowly, staring down a pancake in apparent confusion as to how it came to be on his plate. Spencer was smirking, because of course, he’s the one who put it there.

“There’s only a few weeks left,” Spencer offered. “It could be really hard to switch now.”

Brendon shrugged. He didn’t care a whole lot, actually. It would be nice to go to school with Spencer, was all, but then again, Spencer was a senior. So it didn’t matter. Maybe he was just anxious about running into his cousins at school. He wasn’t sure how to handle facing them, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to. After all, how could he talk to them in person when he couldn’t even answer his cellphone?

“Wouldn’t you miss your friends at school, Brendon?” Jon asked, starting to cut his pancake up with his fork.

Brendon just glanced over at Jon and cocked his head to the side. “What friends?” he asked, and before Jon could say anything else (because his mouth had fallen open like he was about to) Brendon shoved his last bite of food into his mouth and stood up. He left his plate in the sink.

“Breakfast was amazing, Zack, I’m going to go shower now.”  He darted off, pretending not to hear Spencer’s voice saying, ‘Bren, wait!’, as he closed and locked the bathroom door behind him. Shoot. Why did he have to say that? Now they were going to think he was a loser- a loser kid who didn’t have any friends. Or they were just going to think he was a stupid whiny kid who complained about not having any friends.

“I’m such an idiot…” he mumbled to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing. He started the shower and waited for it to get warm. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he scowled.

“Loser,” he muttered. Sometimes he really didn’t like himself.

 

**  
**

…

“How was school today, B?” Spencer asked, sitting down at the table next to where Brendon was doing his homework. He was supposed to make some kind of picture showing all the parts of the cell, which wouldn’t be so hard, if he could actually remember all the parts of the cell. He had notes about it, but he’d left them at his parent’s house, so now he was flipping through his science textbook, trying to find something that’d help him out.

“It was fine,” Brendon responded. Spencer was being careful around him, Brendon could tell. And really, he didn’t blame him. When you show up at someone’s house at ten o’clock at night crying, it makes sense for them to act careful around you.

“Did you uhm… did anything cool happen today?” Spencer asked. He had a math book open and a pencil in his hand, but he wasn’t actually doing anything. Brendon, meanwhile, had no idea how to spell ‘endoplasmic reticulum.’ He might as well quit now. He was too stupid for this.

“Nope,” Brendon said simply, drawing loop-de-loops in the margin of his paper. Endoplasmic reticulum was fun to say at least, and it looked kind of like loop-de-loops, so indirectly, he was studying.

“Did you see your family?”

Brendon didn’t mean to, but his pencil lead snapped from suddenly pushing too hard against his paper. Spencer was watching him cautiously again, staring down at the pencil for a minute before his eyes flicked back up to Brendon. Brendon swept the broken tip off of his paper and clenched, tossing his pencil down on the table.

“I didn’t talk to them,” Brendon said. “I’m not sure if they noticed me or anything. I was kind of ignoring them. And I wouldn’t doubt it if my cousins don’t even know what happened yet. My…” Brendon frowned. Was he still allowed to say it? “...my dad… uhm.. he doesn’t like talking about this kind of thing. He thinks it’s embarrassing for people to know his business.”

Spencer frowned. “Are you okay, B?”

Brendon nodded and flipped his book closed. There was no way he could focus. “I’m fine.”

Spencer put his hand on Brendon’s knee and squeezed gently, and Brendon gave Spencer a small grin. Spencer was trying, so Brendon could try too. Spencer was about to say something else, but then his phone buzzed and he pulled his hand back. Brendon didn’t look to see what the message said since he had a feeling Spencer was going to mention it anyways.

Sure enough, “You wanna go get something to eat with Jon and I?” Spencer asked.

Brendon was hungry, always hungry, but he was actually pretty tired too. He didn’t have the energy after today to go out with them and have conversations and act happy. He just wanted to sleep.

“No thanks. I think I’m going to go to bed,” He stood up and picked his books up.

“It’s only five…” Spencer frowned, and Brendon shrugged before shuffling away. Spencer looked awful worried, but Brendon didn’t feel like worrying about that right now.

“Have fun, Spence,” he shut the door behind him and curled up in Spencer’s bed, and even though he didn’t actually fall asleep until late that night, he pretended to be asleep whenever anyone checked on him.

 

**  
**

…

Spencer was following Jon around the mall, watching Jon as he geeked out over a CD in the music store they were in. Spencer flipped through some rap CDs, not finding anything interesting and starting to wander down the aisle, looking at other CDs. He found the first Green Day album and looked at it, interested. He’d listened to all the others, but he’d never gotten his hands on the first one.

“I didn’t take you for a punk, Spencer Smith.”

Spencer jumped, surprised, and turned his head. There was Haley, smiling cooly and holding a Godsmack CD in her hands. Spencer noticed that Haley’s nails were painted blue. Sometimes they were painted black or purple, but blue was always Spencer’s favorite. It looked pretty.

“I… uhm…”

“Articulate,” she smirked. “What are you doing here?”

Spencer shrugged and looked away from her fingernails, back at the CD in his own hands. His cuticles were dry and he had hangnails; nothing fun to look at. Spencer thought for a brief moment that he was lucky guys weren’t held to the same beauty standards as girls. He didn’t think he could handle it.

Haley looked around, and Spencer glanced up, noticing as her gaze settled on Jon, who was busy across the store, talking to someone Spencer had never seen before about a movie he was holding in his hand.

“You’re here with him?” she asked, motioning. Spencer looked up at Jon and shrugged. For some reason, he couldn’t really find anything to say.

“You two sure are cute together,” she said, grinning at Spencer, and Spencer felt his face go red.

“Uhm… What?” he scoffed. “Cute together?”

“Yeah.” She looked at him curiously. “Isn’t he your boyfriend? I mean, it just makes sense. You two are already close from being bonded, and the way you act around each other-”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Spencer snapped, wrinkling up his nose because what? Seriously?

“Really?” Haley asked. “Well, that’s a surprise,” She gave him a smile, and Spencer forced one. He wanted to deck her.

“Yeah. Funny.”

“Oh come on, what are you so angry for?” she asked, laughing, and Spencer clenched his jaw.

He took a breath and set the CD down. “I’m not.”

“Mhm,” she said, following Spencer as he traveled down the aisle to look at something else. Anything else. Seeing Haley had him a bit shaken up but he didn’t want to acknowledge that at the moment.

“It’s been nice talking to you,” she said. “We should hang out some time, Spencer.”

Spencer glanced at her, wanting to say something mean because who was she kidding anyways? But he didn’t. He just shrugged and said, “Sure.”

“I’m glad we’re still friends.” She took his hand and squeezed it, and then turned and left. “Text me some time,” she called over her shoulder, and Spencer just watched her go. He clenched his hands at his sides and tried to get his heart to stop beating so hard. Text her some time. Sure. Right. Still friends? As if. As fucking if. They couldn’t be friends after… how dare she.

“What’s the matter?” Jon asked, coming over, looking curious, but Spencer wasn’t in the mood for sharing. “Hey, is that Haley?”

“I’m going home,” Spencer grumbled. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and headed for the exit. He was pissed at Haley, and he was going to take it out on Jon. He didn’t want to, but he knew it was going to happen anyways.

“Hey! Wait a minute!” Jon jogged after him and caught Spencer’s arm, stopping him. “I have the keys, dumb ass. And we have to go get Brendon from school.”

“I’ll walk home,” Spencer replied. The less time he spent around other people, the better. Haley. Fuck. Just thinking about her felt like a punch to the stomach, and the fact that she even dared to act like everything was just perfect between them, oh that was even worse. As if she didn’t know what she’d done to him. As if she were completely innocent. Spencer clenched his jaw. He hated her, but he also knew that if she asked, he’d probably take her back in a heartbeat.

“Like hell.  You want to show up early and let Zack know you skipped school?” Jon said. “Come on.”

Spencer let himself be pulled towards the door easily. He was mad, but he wasn’t going to throw a tantrum or anything. He did, however, pull his arm free and walk ahead of Jon out of the store.

“Fine, whatever.”

If Spencer noticed the slightly hurt expression on Jon’s face, or sensed his confusion, even, he didn’t acknowledge it. He just crossed his arms when he got to the car and leaned up against the side, waiting for it to be unlocked. When Jon rolled his eyes and clicked the button to unlock it, Spencer wrenched the door open and plopped himself down in the passenger seat without a word. Jon was still watching him out of the corner of his eye, but they drove to Brendon’s school in silence.

“Hey B,” Jon said, while Brendon threw his backpack into the back seat and slumped inside. “How was school?”

“Well-” Brendon, as he tended to sometimes, went off talking a mile a minute about something that had happened in English class, then about this kid who got his pen stuck in the ceiling in math class, and some kids got in a fight at lunch, and then his Biology teacher had totally let him hang out there and dress up the skeleton instead of going to study hall, and…. Spencer wasn’t really in the mood for this right now. He had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping, and he sank more into his seat. If he was in one of those stupid cartoons that Brendon liked to watch, his ears would be smoking.

Brendon stopped talking abruptly. “Spence, are you okay? Oh shit, I’m talking too much, aren’t I? I’m sorry… fuck, I’m sorry….”

Which of course, didn’t help, because God damn it Brendon this has nothing to do with you. The kid shouldn’t feel bad, because this wasn’t even his fault, but now he totally did, and that was all Spencer’s fault, and just… God damn it. He closed his eyes and growled.

“Don’t mind him,” Jon said. “Spence is just on his period, is all.”

Spencer’s eyes snapped open and he glared at Jon. “Shut up, I am not.”

“Well, you’re acting like it.” Jon’s voice was completely relaxed, and he was smiling, and Spencer seriously, seriously did not have the patience for this shit.

“I’m sorry,” Brendon chimed in. “I didn’t mean to make you mad or anything, I just-”

“It’s fine, Brendon,” Spencer ground out, crossing his arms and not looking at Jon Walker and his stupid grin. Why was everyone so relaxed when Spencer was obviously upset? It wasn’t fair. “Keep going with your story.”

“No, no that’s fine,” Brendon mumbled. “It’s not important anyways.”  Well shit, Spencer thought with a sigh. The car was awkwardly silent the entire way back to the apartment. When they made it back, Brendon immediately scampered off to hide somewhere, mumbling some kind of excuse that neither Jon or Spencer paid much attention to. Jon wandered into the kitchen and got a soda out of the fridge, and Spencer, having nothing better to do, followed.

“Want one, princess?” Jon asked, smirking. Spencer glowered at him.

“Don’t be such a prick,” he said. “Jeeze.”

“Me?” Jon laughed like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, shaking his head. “Man, remind me to never let you talk to pretty girls again, if it turns you into this much of a pain.”

“You know who that was,” Spencer snapped.

Jon just sighed. “Spence, sweetie. She’s just a girl. You have got to get over her,” he grinned. “Let’s take you out sometime, get you a hooker. It’ll help you relax,” he winked, and Spencer clenched his fists.

“She’s not just a girl. She broke my heart.”

“You’re not the only one who’s had their heart broken, Spence. I told you that getting mated was a bad idea,” he held his hands up like ‘hey. nothing I can do’ and Spencer had just about had enough.

“Fuck you!” He shoved Jon, and Jon actually stumbled back, drink sloshing all over the place.

“Really?” Jon smirked. Spencer wanted to wiped that stupid smile off his face.

Brendon poked his head into the kitchen. “Uhm… guys?”

“You know,” Jon sneered, “I don’t fuck on the first date.”

And then he snapped. Spencer punched him right in the nose, and Jon stumbled back, then shoved Spencer back. Spencer lunged at him, and Jon grabbed Spencer like he was trying to shove him again, but one of them slipped on the drink that had been spilled, and they both went down. It was a tangle of fists and knees striking against the floor and each other while they scuffled, rolling around on the floor. Jon almost pinned him down, but then Spencer kneed him in the stomach and pounced.

“Guys! Guys stop it!” Brendon shouted, trying in vain to pull them apart, but it wasn’t working. Suddenly, hands that were way too strong to be Brendon’s were grabbing Spencer by the back of his shirt and hauling him back.

Zack grabbed Spencer with one hand and Jon with the other and ripped them off of each other. “Knock it off!”

Jon yanked himself free and stepped back, touching his fingers to his fat lip and wincing slightly. Spencer, however, wasn’t ready to give up just yet. He lunged forward, but Zack was too strong and yanked him back, one arm wrapped around Spencer and one hand tight on the back of his neck. “Hey!” he shook Spencer a little, and Spencer just gave up after that, taking a deep breath and not trying to get at Jon anymore. Jon, on a similar note, looked pissed.

“What the hell is going on here?” Zack demanded.

“He started it!” Spencer insisted, pointing at Jon and glaring. Jon scoffed.

“He punched me!”

“He deserved it! He was being an asshole!”

“Well he was being a moody little bitch!”

“Alright!” Zack shouted, yanking Spencer back again, because both he and Jon had their jaws clenched and their fists ready to go. Somebody was gonna get punched again if Zack didn’t step in. “That is just about enough.”

Zack pointed his finger at Jon. “You, go to your room, and you-” he shook Spencer again by the scruff of his neck like a puppy, “Go sit at the table, until you’re both calmed down enough to put the canines away and act like grownups.”

Spencer noticed that Jon ran his tongue over his teeth, as if checking to see if he’d actually started to change over from the confrontation. They had, for the record, but Spencer was preoccupied.

“Oh, what?” he snapped. “You’re putting us in time out now?”

“If that’s what you want to call it, fine.” Zack dragged Spencer over to the table and pushed him into a chair. “Stay. Jonathan-”

“I’m going.” Jon stormed off to his room, and Zack sighed. He glanced over at Brendon, who was pasted to the wall, watching with wide eyes. Zack grinned at him and ruffled Brendon’s hair, while Spencer scowled at them.

“You got homework?” Zack asked. Brendon nodded. “How about you go do that then?” Brendon ran off with a 'yes sir!', and Zack glanced over at Spencer, who was still scowling. Zack raised an eyebrow at him, and Spencer huffed out a breath, folding his arms on the table and dropping his head into them. Fine.

He only waited until Zack and Brendon had left the room, and then he was gone.

…

Brendon was helping Zack make dinner (Spaghetti, which Brendon just happened to know was Spencer’s favorite) chopping up mushrooms and stuff. He accidentally ate half the mushrooms that he was supposed to be chopping, but maybe if he just spread them out on the cutting board, Zack wouldn’t notice… Zack looked over at him and shook his head, then he went and got another package of mushrooms from the fridge and set it down in front of Brendon.

“Just chopping, no eating.”

“Yes sir,” Brendon responded. He figured that if he kept being extra polite, Zack wouldn’t mind letting him stay in the apartment. It was worth a shot, anyways. He chopped almost all of the mushrooms, except one. That one he stuck in his mouth, but he didn’t risk anymore after Zack flicked him on the ear.

“Owww,” Brendon whined, rubbing his ear and pouting up at Zack, because owww why. “Mushrooms have essential vitamins, Zack. I’m young. I need them.” He grinned and closed his eyes when Zack ruffled his hair. Zack could be nice sometimes.

“Go get Spence and Jon for dinner.  We’ll have them set the table, and see if they don’t kill each other in the process.”

Brendon nodded and ran off to do that. Today was a good day, and he had all sorts of energy. He needed to do something to get rid of it, or else he was going to explode or vibrate out of his skin or something. He was glad that Zack let him help out in the kitchen. His mom used to, but he wasn’t allowed to if his dad was around. He wasn’t allowed to do a lot of things when his dad was around, but… he was trying not to think about that stuff anymore.

“Jonny Walker!” Brendon sang, running into Jon’s room and leaping face first onto the bed.

“Oof!” Brendon landed sprawled across Jon’s legs, on top of a book that was then digging into his stomach. He squealed and rolled around when Jon squeezed his sides, and Jon kept tickling him, demanding that Brendon named five types of cereal before he let him go. Jon was really good at helping chase all the extra, jittery energy out of Brendon, and Brendon eventually fell off the bed and onto the floor, breathlessly giggling and clutching his stomach.

“It’s time for…” he giggled and gasped. “I’m supposed to… fetch you… for dinner,” he kept giggling. Jon snorted a laugh and nudged Brendon with his foot.

“You’re so fucking weird, kid,” he got off the bed and hauled Brendon up to his feet. “I’ll go set the table; go find Spence.”

“Okay.” Brendon was still giggling while he wandered off to look for Spencer. After a quick sweep around the apartment he had finally caught his breath, but he also didn’t find who he was looking for. The apartment was a decent size, but there weren’t that many hiding spaces, so…

“Spencer?” he searched every room a second time, but Spencer was seriously nowhere to be seen. Weird. He went into the kitchen with the others. “Hey guys… I can’t find Spencer….”

Jon set the silverware down on the table and frowned. It looked a bit silly with his lip all swollen up. “What do you mean you can’t find him?”

“He’s not here.” Brendon shrugged. “Do you know where he went?”

Zack turned off the burner on the stove and sniffed the air. “He’s not here… God damn it.”  The sound that happened when Zack slammed his fist down on the counter made Brendon flinch.

“Should I call Pete?” Jon asked.

Zack didn’t answer, he was too busy messing with his cell phone. Brendon frowned and hopped up on the counter, drumming his heels against the cabinets and waiting. He could smell that Zack was worried, and Jon was still frowning. Brendon hoped that Spencer wasn’t in too much trouble or anything. He kept drumming his heels against the cabinets quietly and tapping his fingers on his knees. He always fidgeted when he was nervous. It helped.

Somewhere in the apartment, Spencer’s phone totally started going off.

“Son of a bitch…” Zack muttered, snapping his phone shut (Zack still had a flip phone. The kind from, like, 2005 that Brendon remembered his older brothers having when he was little. They used to be really cool, but now..?).

“You guys go ahead and eat,” Zack snapped, heading for the door and grabbing a jacket. He grabbed Spencer’s phone off the couch and shoved it in his pocket. “I’m going to go look for him, I’m going to bring him home, and then I’m going to kill him.”  The door slammed behind him as he left, and Brendon flinched again. There was a long silence in the apartment, only interrupted by some small children in the apartment next door shouting in play. Eventually Jon clapped his hands together.

“Well, I guess we should eat then,” Jon said, straightening the forks and going towards the stove. “You want me to get your plate for you?”

Brendon wrapped his arms tight around himself. “What’s Zack gonna do?” he asked.

Jon kept his back turned while he shoveled spaghetti onto a plate. “Yell, probably. I don’t know, why?”

Yell. Okay. Yelling was okay. “What’s the matter, Brendon?” Jon asked, turning to face him.

Shit. “Nothing!” Brendon hated the way his voice squeaked a bit. He sounded like such an idiot. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m just… I’m not hungry. I’m gonna go do my homework.”

Jon frowned. “You said you finished your homework…”

“I lied,” Brendon blurted out, hopping down from the counter. “So I have to go finish it, good night.”  He darted off and locked himself in his room, sitting on his bed and pinching part of his wrist until he was able to breathe normally again. He was fine. Nothing was wrong. He just felt bad, all of a sudden. Brendon eventually just shut off the lights and curled up in bed. For the first time in a while, at least, he fell asleep almost instantly.

 

…

Spencer didn’t go incredibly far from the apartment, just a few blocks into town where he found a little bar, which smelled suspiciously like a graveyard but also really, really good, so he figured ‘why not?’ Nobody stopped him at the door, and it was crowded enough that he was able to walk undisturbed across the bar and grab a stool in the corner against the wall.

It wasn’t too long before a guy, who seriously seriously smelled like blood (it was kind of gross) sauntered (literally) over to him and leaned on the bar in front of him. He was the bartender, obviously.

“Hey there, sailor,” the guy said. The way he was looking at Spencer, it was totally obvious that he knew Spencer wasn’t 21, but he didn’t mention it. “What can I get you?”

“Diet coke please,” Spencer said, shrugging, trying to act casual like he belonged there.

“Oh sweet heart,” the guy looked him up and down, and Spencer couldn’t help feeling slightly violated. “You do not need the diet, you are beautiful.”

Spencer blushed. No. No thank you. Really.

“Normal coke, I guess…” Normal coke did taste better… But Spencer was kind of hoping to trim some of his baby fat (his mom had always said it was baby fat. Spencer wasn’t sure he believed her, but… he was still hoping that one day it would magically fall off and he would turn into a sex god, or… something). Maybe his werewolf metabolism would help that though, and fighting had probably killed some calories, so he could afford the coke.

“What happened to your eye, cutie pie?” the guy’s name tag said ‘Alex’ on it, and Alex seemed nice enough, so Spencer let himself relax a little bit.

“Uhm… just.. I got in a fight with a friend earlier. I was being an asshole….”

“It happens,” Alex said, he poured a can of coke into a glass and slid it over to Spencer. “Here ya go, sweet cheeks. If you’re looking for entertainment, there’s some free soft porn over there.”  He pointed across the bar and winked. Spencer followed his gaze and… oh. That guy that Spencer recognized… Pete, or something. The obnoxious sparkly one had some skinny guy with stupid glasses shoved back against a wall and was totally molesting him, squeezing the guy’s crotch and everything. Spencer blushed and looked away.

“Uhm…” he glanced up at Alex. “Is this… Is this a gay bar?” he asked.

Alex laughed. “Nonono, come on wolfboy. I figured you sniffed this place out on purpose. This is a bar for the fey and the damned.”  He flashed a smirk that totally showed off gleaming, pointy fangs.

Spencer stared at him wide eyed. “What…?”

“Never seen a vampire before?” Alex smirked. “You’re adorable, oh my God.”

“Uhm…”

Alex’s head snapped towards the door when it slammed open, and Spencer followed his gaze to where he saw Zack.  Spencer totally choked on the sip of coke he’d taken. Zack strode over to him, and Alex murmured quietly, “You’re in trouble~.” Spencer set his coke down and braced himself.

“Give me your hand,” Zack demanded immediately, as soon as he got to Spencer, and well. Sure. Spencer instantly stuck his hand out, and found his phone being smacked into it. “You take this, and you keep the sound on every time you leave the house. And you answer it if I’m trying to reach you, you got that?”

Spencer nodded, wide eyed. Zack could be kind of scary. He’d do whatever he said.

Zack then turned to Alex. “Do you realize that you’re serving a seventeen year old?” he demanded. Alex held his hands up, and Spencer felt pretty freaking embarrassed.

“Zack…” Spencer tried.

“Hush up. If this were a mortal bar, the police could arrest you. You need to be more careful about who you let wander in here,” Zack said, and Alex nodded.

“Hey man, I just gave him a coke, not spiked or anything. I wouldn’t give alcohol to a baby,” Alex said. Spencer decided that he liked Alex significantly less than before.

“I’m not a baby…”

“We’re leaving now,” Zack’s hand fastened on the collar of Spencer’s shirt, and Spencer stumbled after him while being practically dragged out of the bar.  Every set of eyes in the building had turned to look at him (he heard Pete laughing- hard to forget that obnoxious cackling- the mother fucker). Spencer was pretty embarrassed. Zack let go of him, at least, when they got outside on the sidewalk. Spencer frowned and rubbed at his throat.

“Listen to me,” Zack stopped Spencer with a hand on his shoulder to keep him still. “This state isn’t safe right now, and I do not want anything bad happening to you. So instead of giving me a fucking heart attack every time you decide to throw a hissy fit, you tell me when you’re going out, and you take your cellphone with you.”

Spencer frowned. “Why is this state dangerous?” That didn’t make much sense. What was so dangerous about Colorado?  Besides, like, bears.

“There are people out there who don’t like werewolves, and they want to kill us, like animals. Wolves may be coming out in the cities, but this town is different.” Zack didn’t sound angry like he had earlier. What he was saying shouldn’t have come as a surprise; he knew the stigma surrounding werewolves. But… there were people that wanted to kill him? That was… fuck, that was kind of scary.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll be more careful, and I’ll keep my phone on me.”

“That’s all I ask, kid.  Let’s head back.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Spaghetti.”

“Fuck yes!”

…

Brendon’s phone rang after dinner some time later, while they were all in the living room. Brendon was watching Jon totally destroy Spencer at a video game, and Zack was reading a magazine. Spencer really sucked at Halo…

When his phone started buzzing, Brendon jumped and grabbed for it. The name on the screen said ‘Mason.’ Brendon wasn’t mad at Mason. Mason hadn’t done anything, but at the same time, he hadn’t done anything…. ever. He gave Brendon advice, but… standing up for him once in a while would have been nice. Even so, Brendon wasn’t mad at his brother. Seeing his name just made him really sad, and sending the call to voicemail made him sadder.

“Is that your brother?” Zack asked him. Spencer and Jon had become significantly quieter. Brendon felt kind of sick, but he nodded.  “You’ll have to talk to him eventually.”

Brendon shook his head and stood up. “Not if I can help it.”  He ignored Zack trying to talk to him again and went to the bathroom, locking the door behind him and taking deep breaths until he stopped feeling so…. everything. He didn’t know how to describe it. He just felt bad. He turned his phone off and left it in one of the drawers. He didn’t even want to look at it currently.

 

...

A few nights later, Zack came home around one thirty a.m., which was only slightly later than normal. There had been a few idiots that wouldn’t leave, even after they announced last call and mentioned several times that the bar was closing, so they hadn’t been able to clean up until later than normal. It wasn’t too bad. Sometimes he didn’t get home until two or three. One thirty wasn’t bad at all.

He came in quietly, because hopefully everyone would be asleep, and he didn’t want to wake them up. When he came inside, however, Brendon was sitting on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest, watching TV on mute in his pajamas. His head snapped over to Zack as soon as he came in, and Zack could smell the relief as it washed over the kid.

“Is something wrong, Brendon?” Zack asked, frowning. Brendon’s eyebrows shot up for a moment, and then he shook his head.

“No, I was just, uhm….” He fidgeted uneasily, and Zack just nodded and waited for him, patient. “I uhm… just… I wanted to make sure you came back,” he said eventually. Zack raised an eyebrow, slightly confused, and he only got more confused when Brendon got up, twitched around nervously for a moment, then darted in and hugged Zack around his middle. Alright. Hugging. Sure, okay.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Zack asked, rubbing the kid’s back gently until he pulled back just as fast as he darted in.

“I’m gonna go to bed now.  Bye.” He ran off, leaving Zack staring after him in the living room. Weird kid… he didn’t remember signing up to take care of weird kids. Well, besides Jon. But Jon wasn’t that weird, and not too much of a kid anymore. Nineteen. Whatever.

Zack walked over to the silent TV and switched it off, then went to get ready for bed. He could worry more about Brendon’s emotional well-being in the morning, when he was more awake and less irritable.

 

…

Everyone clapped for their kids as they walked across the stage to get their diplomas, but when Spencer walked across the stage, Brendon and Jon both leapt to their feet, clapping as hard as they could and hollering way too loud. Brendon was jumping up and down, literally, and Jon only stopped clapping long enough to pick his camera up and take a picture.

Spencer, on a different note, was blushing bright enough to be seen from the audience. They weren’t sitting in the front row, because the place had been half-packed by the time they got there (which was half an hour early, for the record. people were insane). They’d snagged a spot in the middle, and even from there, they could see that Spencer was beat red while he walked purposefully across the stage, not looking out at the audience until he was holding the diploma, and then only for a moment. Zack was clapping, like a normal person, which Brendon thought was totally kind of lame. But he was smiling pretty hard, and… yeah. They were all really proud of Spencer.

Spencer looked pretty good in his dark blue cap and gown. He’d recently grown a few inches, and his dress (“Brendon! It’s a gown and it’s gender neutral! Oh my god!”) wasn’t totally swimming on him like it was on some of the other kids. He looked- Brendon took a moment to think of the right adjective- sleek. Spencer looked all tall and sleek and awesome. Spencer didn’t agree, of course. When trying his dress on at the apartment, he’d glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and lamented, “I look like a blob.”

“A sexy blob,” Jon had teased, and the two got into a shoving match that almost squished Brendon, almost tore Spencer’s gown, and almost caused Zack to kill all of them because he did ‘not know how to sew, and it is a rental, Goddamn it!’

After they had called everyone’s names and given everyone their diplomas, after the scholarship announcements, the cheesy valedictorian speech, the principal’s infuriatingly boring speech, and the vice-principal’s even more boring and also cheesy speech, they were all free to go. The only thing keeping Brendon from shoving everyone out of the way and sprinting up to Spencer at the front of the auditorium was Zack’s hand fisted in the back of his hoodie, holding him back. Unfortunately, Brendon was like the most impatient person in the whole entire world, also probably the most irritating little shit ever when he was impatient, and Zack was probably ready to throttle him by the time Spencer came jogging over.

“Spencer!” Brendon shouted, jumping on him as soon as Zack let go. “You graduated!”

“Yeah!” Spencer responded, laughing and trying not to fall over. Luckily, Jon was standing behind him and caught them when they overbalanced. Spencer was still blushing a bit, and people were looking at them funny, but Brendon really didn’t care much.

“Come on, it’s too crowded here,” Jon said, and Zack pried Brendon off of Spencer and dragged them all out of the auditorium, outside to the grassy area in the front of the school.

“Smile!” Spencer laughed and blushed, holding his hands up to block while Jon waved his camera about, trying to snap pictures.

“Would you like me to take a picture of all of you?” someone’s mom asked, coming over to them. Jon showed her how to use the camera, but she ended up taking like thirty pictures anyways, since all adults are for some reason technologically challenged.

There was one taken perfectly though, when Brendon had jumped on Spencer’s back and wrapped his arms around Spencer’s neck. Spencer had laughed, holding his legs up for a piggyback ride, and Jon had wrapped an arm around them both and kissed Spencer on the cheek. Zack was standing there too, hand on Brendon’s back to keep him from falling over, and they were all laughing and smiling.

Brendon totally pretended he didn’t see Jon smiling goofily at the picture, after it had been developed, and slipping it into his wallet. If Jon was acting all silly, it wasn’t any of Brendon’s business anyways. It was a pretty great picture though.

 

…

Brendon felt like he slid into the pack easily, like a puzzle piece. He just hoped that the guys felt the same way, that they didn't mind Brendon being there, that maybe they even liked him. They acted like they did, but at the same time, people can pretend to be nice to you if they feel sorry for you. He wasn't too worried about it, really. Just a little bit. Like when they got irritated with him and stuff. They didn't have to let him stay. Brendon was worried that one day they'd have enough and ask him to leave.

Brendon wouldn't exactly blame them...

But besides his insecurities, Brendon fit in easily, and it did kind of feel like a family. Like maybe he had been there the whole time.

He did feel bad about taking Spencer's bedroom though, but Spencer kept telling him not to worry about it, that it wasn't a problem. The other day, Brendon had sat on the stairs and watched Spencer and Jon wrestle a mattress up the stairs. It wasn't that the mattress was heavy (they were werewolves. A boulder the size of a minivan would have posed a challenge, but a mattress? Asssss ifffffff) it was just that Jon was a bit clumsy, Spencer wanted to hurry, and they weren't very good at teamwork. Eventually, Spencer just yelled 'fine! I'll do it! Jesus fucking Christ!' and carried it the rest of the way all by himself. Jon had been smirking to himself, like he'd planned that the entire time, and if Brendon didn't know any better, he'd think that Jon was totally watching Spencer's ass while the went up the stairs.

But Jon wasn't... Yeah no way. Brendon was just being creepy and gay and imagining everyone else as creepy and gay. What if.... Oh God... What if Brendon was the one watching Spencer's ass. Ew! Ewewewew!!!! Brendon made gagging noises and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to unsee it because sure, Spencer had an okay ass, but it was SPENCER! Ew!

"Hey! Hey Brendon are you okay?" Jon ran up the stairs and crouched in front of him, obviously concerned, and Brendon exploded into a giggling fit.

"Spencer's ass!" He yelled, and Jon totally blushed bright red.

"What?" He demanded, but Brendon just kept giggling. Eventually Jon scowled, flicked Brendon on the ear, and stormed up the stairs. Jon was so weird, but so was Brendon, so...

 

...

Summer vacation coupled with anxiety induced insomnia meant that Brendon was developing a habit of never waking up before eleven, which was actually pretty weird for him, since he was a morning person. When he did finally get up, it was because someone was cooking something and his stomach just couldn't take it anymore, or everyone was being so loud that he couldn't possibly stay in bed, he had to go investigate. It was an okay system.

Brendon was used to noise. Living with five siblings, the house was always buzzing, sometimes deafening. He liked waking up to everyone already being awake and rowdy in the apartment. It was comfortable.

So it freaked him out a bit when he woke up on a Thursday morning and the place was silent. He sat up and frowned, sniffed the air, and there were traces of them, but it wasn't normal. He got up, still frowning, and padded into the empty living room. No one was in the living room, or the kitchen, or any of the bedrooms, or the bathroom. They weren't on the balcony or hiding in the closets. He was alone...

Huh.

He really didn't know what to do with himself, so he turned on the tv to make some noise and poured himself a bowl of cereal. He curled up on the couch, cradling his cereal, and tried to focus on Spongebob. It was the episode about 'Spongebob day,' where everyone leaves Spongebob completely alone in bikini bottom, he spirals into a depression induced case of psychosis, and he makes a puppet of Patrick out of hamburger.

It really didn't do anything to set Brendon at ease.

They were gone, and they hadn't told him they were leaving, and... What if they were hurt? Or, oh God, what if they'd been murdered? Or kidnapped? Oh my God oh my God oh my God.

Brendon considered calling one of them; he had their numbers in his cellphone and all, since Zack was really dedicated to communication or something. But.. He didn't want to bother them and be annoying..

He hadn't touched his cereal yet, and it had turned all soggy and gross. Fruity pebbles all melting into a purple marshmallow type goo. Appetizing. He set the bowl down.

He didn't know why he was so nervous, but his stomach was literally in knots. He felt like he was going to cry, or just, like curl into a ball and die. It didn't make sense. He didn't have a reason to feel like this. He wrapped his arms tight around his legs and waited, trying to remember how to breathe normally.

It took three more episodes of Spongebob until Brendon could hear Spencer and Jon’s voices in the hallway. He perked up as they burst into the room, hauling a giant IKEA box with them.

“...and by that point, he had toothpaste in his fucking ears, and he just started yelling, ‘My ears are minty fresh!’ and he kicked his pants off, and then…”

“I never want to meet this person,” Spencer said, “Keep him far, far away from me.”

“You are no fun, puppy, seriously.  Tom is-” Jon paused when he noticed Brendon on the couch. Brendon ducked his head and tried to hide behind his knees. “Bren? What’s wrong?”

Brendon made himself smile, just for Jon, who was looking mighty concerned.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just chilling.”

“Why are you upset?”

Brendon hated werewolf senses. He truly, truly did. How was he supposed to lie when Jon could just sniff him and call him out on it? He was already a shitty liar. This wasn’t exactly fair.

Even so, Brendon had no intention of telling Jon that he felt like throwing himself off the balcony, for no real reason except that he just felt tremendously bad, because Jon would think he was insane. That would suck.

“Just… I watched something sad on TV. I’m a sap for Hallmark movies,” He watched as Jon looked at the TV for a moment, then raised an eyebrow.

“You’re watching Spongebob…”

“Hallmark movies have happy endings,” Spencer chimed in. Fuck you, Spencer. Let me lie in peace.

“What’s in the box?” If Brendon acted chipper enough, maybe they’d start to believe him. “Is it a dragon? I’ve always wanted a dragon. Like a little one that I could carry on my shoulder and in my pocket and feed things to.”

“I think what you want is a lizard,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. “It’s a bed. Want to help put it together?”

Brendon had no idea how to build a bed, and he really didn’t think he could talk to Jon or Spencer anymore without bursting into tears or spontaneously combusting, but….

“Sure. Why not.”

…

It turns out that none of them actually had any clue how to put the bed together, even with the instructions in the box. It took Brendon at least five minutes to find the English instructions (only after he had tried reciting the French instructions with an awful accent), and then there were like, fifty extra screws and stuff. Brendon didn’t believe in reading the instructions first, but Spencer was an avid instruction booklet reader. He read the entire thing (in English) before even letting them take things out of the box, and then kept it open and read the step-by-step instructions while they tried to put it together. Miraculously, they still fucked up.

“Fuck this,” Spencer threw a screwdriver and actually got it stuck in the wall by the light switch. All three of them stared at it for a moment before Jon stood up.

“Stay.”

Brendon and Spencer exchanged a look, and Brendon shrugged before crawling across the room and yanking the screwdriver out of the wall. It was stuck in there pretty good, and he toppled backwards when it finally came free. Spencer chuckled.

After a few minutes, Jon came back, smiling like the devil.

“Behold, puppies-” and that was how, half an hour later, they all found themselves sprawled out on the bedroom floor, totally stoned and giggling like idiots.

Brendon was pretty sure that Spencer had never smoked weed before, since he was laughing like an idiot, slightly green, and he’d looked absolutely gobsmacked when Jon pulled the small bag out from behind his back and winked at them. Brendon, surprisingly, wasn’t a weed virgin. There was a long and rather unfortunate story from seventh grade, that started with a joint or two in a classmate’s basement and ended with Brendon absolutely covered, head-to-toe, practically, in barbeque sauce, because they had made a ton of frozen chicken nuggets ahead of time, and high Brendon thought that the swirls he could draw on his skin with the sauce were absolutely beautiful.

At least his life wasn’t boring….

As one would guess, putting the bed together while they were high was even harder than putting it together while they were sober, but at least Spencer wasn’t being bossy and annoying. He just kept saying, “Guys… guys guys guys we have to…” and then bursting into hysterical giggling. It was pretty contagious, and that’s why they were all rolling around on the floor.

“Seriously though,” Jon said. “If you squint, just the right way, you can see little shiny things everywhere. I swear to it. And what if the world is just full of little shiny things? Imagine how much happier it would be if everything sparkled, all the time.”

“Like fairy dust,” Brendon mused, grinning.

Spencer scowled lazily. “I hate fairies.”

“Let’s order a pizza,” Jon said, so they got on Jon’s cellphone and ordered seven. The pizzas arrived at the apartment at the same time as a very disgruntled Zack, who ended up putting the bed together by himself anyways. Brendon would have felt guilty about that, but he didn't’ have it in him. All he had in him was pizza. Wonderful, glorious pizza.

 

…

There was a cold war going on considering Brendon’s cellphone. Zack wanted Brendon to answer it. Brendon, under no circumstances, was willing to pick the phone up and talk to his brother.  Jon and Spencer just kept out of it. It was a generally quiet disturbance, only the nightly buzzing of a cellphone, the occasional comment of ‘you gonna get that?’ Sometimes Brendon huffed and crossed his arms, and sometimes he just pouted and switched it off, and sometimes he just shrugged and continued whatever he was doing.

There had been discussions, but one thing was clear, Brendon did not want to answer that phone. Zack, on the other hand, thought that he should. Thus the two went around and around and around…

The first shouting match happened when Brendon’s phone started buzzing during dinner. Zack had taken it and said, “If you don’t answer it, I will.” Brendon was stubborn, and Zack didn’t have incredible amounts of patience, so they both started shouting. Jon looked up at Spencer over his bowl of mac n’ cheese and shrugged, as if saying ‘what are ya going to do?’

Spencer watched them argue, both standing up in front of their chairs and being loud. Spencer totally saw the way that, when Zack raised his hand up and jabbed his finger in Brendon’s general direction while making a point, Brendon flinched back like he’d been hit and… well.. Spencer wasn’t an idiot.

Zack growled something about being late for work and dealing with Brendon later, before he grabbed his things and stormed out. Brendon had immediately burst into tears and ran out of the room, leaving Spencer and Jon at the kitchen table staring awkwardly after him.

“You should talk to him…” Jon said, and yeah, Spencer planned to. He’d give him a little while to calm down though, just long enough for Spencer and Jon to swallow the rest of their food and clean up the kitchen table. Afterwards, Jon settled down on the couch with a book, and Spencer decided it was time to talk to the younger werewolf, who was filling the entire apartment with angst. It was suffocating.

Brendon’s door was unlocked, so Spencer just opened it without knocking. As soon as the door started to open, Brendon’s voice called out.

“Zack, I’m so sorry, please don’t-” he stalled, noticing Spencer, his mouth was hanging open a little. “Oh… it’s you… hey.”  He slowly sat back down on the edge of his bed, and Spencer frowned, closing the door gently and leaning back against it.

“What were you just saying?” he asked.

Brendon shook his head, fidgeting and not making eye contact. Brendon always made eye contact, unless he was too hyper to pay attention or really upset. Spencer knew it was the latter.

“Nothing, nothing, never mind,” he said. He was picking at a loose string in his jeans.

“Why does it smell like blood?” Spencer asked, sniffing, frowning. Definitely blood.

“Oh, that,” Brendon was fidgeting more, still not making any eye contact. “Someone left the bottom drawer open in the bathroom, and I smacked my shin against it. It’s bleeding, but I’m okay, I put a bandaid on it, it’s fine.”

Spencer nodded. “Okay… that was probably me, sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

A silence settled over them, and Brendon was still fidgeting. Did he ever sit still? Probably not. Spencer wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to, because it was an awkward conversation, and Brendon had already lied about it before. Spencer knew that this conversation would be nearly impossible if it were with Ryan, and he wanted to make sure that Brendon wouldn’t just shut him out the way Ryan always managed to. He wasn’t sure how to do that though.

Finally, having no stroke of genius, he decided to just go for it. “What actually happened, Brendon?”

Brendon looked up, seemingly startled that the silence had been broken and by that question. He furrowed his eyebrows together. “What are you talking about?”

“Your parents kicked you out, and I want to know what actually happened,” Spencer said solidly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know you lied about it.”

Brendon physically shrank back, losing eye contact for a moment before looking up, his face the expression of pure innocence. It was totally fake.

“I told you what happened.”

“You said that your parents kicked you out for being ‘defiant,’ but you didn’t actually tell us what happened,” Spencer said. Brendon squirmed.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It kind of does, though, actually.” When Brendon didn’t say anything, Spencer sighed and crossed the room to sit on the bed next to him. “Did they hit you?”

Brendon’s head immediately snapped up and he glared at Spencer, who had never actually seen him glare before, at least not at him. He was always just happy or sad. This was new.

“No.” he said firmly, setting his jaw.

“Brendon.”

“No, and it’s none of your business.”

“You flinch whenever someone moves too fast,” Spencer pointed out. Brendon shrugged.

“So?”

“I saw bruises before, Brendon.”

Brendon crossed his arms tight over his chest, “It’s not what you think, and it’s none of your business, and it doesn’t matter, so shut up.”

“Why did they kick you out?” Spencer insisted. “What happened?”

Brendon locked his jaw and glared down at the floor, arms still tight around himself, tense. “I don’t want to talk about it….”

“You’re going to have to, eventually… B, please?” Spencer figured that if insisting didn’t work, maybe pleading would, and he was right. He watched Brendon relax just a little, sighing and closing his eyes.

“Fine… fine, I’ll tell you about it, just….” There was a long pause, and Spencer waited him out.  Eventually, after a long minute or so, Brendon stopped fidgeting and said, “They didn’t, like… they just… I deserved it, okay? I’m defiant, and I wouldn’t listen, so my dad smacked me or whatever sometimes, but it’s nothing, really… But then. It’s hard, you know? The... the werewolf thing is hard when you can’t tell anyone. And I kept sneaking out, and I was getting in trouble all the time, and.. it sucked. Everything sucked. And then my dad and I got in a stupid fight, and I was going to get in trouble again and I didn’t want to so I yelled back at him and when he tried to touch me I shoved him and said I wasn’t going to let him hit me anymore, and the next thing I know I just snapped, and I like.. I hurt his arm with my nails.” Brendon was curled up with legs pulled up to him, and he looked down at his hand when he said this. “And they saw, they saw that I was changing over, and I jumped on my dad… and he said it’s bad enough that I’m a faggot, but he wouldn’t accept this, and I wasn’t his son… and my mom said that I should leave, and Mason just didn’t say anything… I just….” He dropped his head onto his knees, and Spencer was pretty sure he was crying. “I really messed up, Spencer.”

Spencer scooted over close to him and wrapped his arms entirely around Brendon, because Brendon was small enough for him to do that, and he had a feeling that Brendon really needed that right now.

“I fuck everything up,” Brendon whispered miserably.

“No you don’t.” He hugged Brendon close and smoothed his hair down.

“I hate myself.”

“Brendon, don’t say that.” Spencer squeezed him tighter. “There’s nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing at all.”

Brendon was definitely crying now, his cheeks wet and breath hiccuping against where it was pressed into Spencer’s neck. Spencer kept holding him, not really sure what else to do at this point. He waited a minute, and then spoke again.

“Zack isn’t like your dad, B.”  He felt Brendon flinch slightly against him.

“What?”

“He’s not going to hit you, and he’s not going to kick you out, I promise, okay?” Spencer said, smoothing his hair down again. “If he can put up with me, then he can definitely handle you. You’re not nearly as irritating as I am.”

There was a sound, and Spencer realized it was giggling. Brendon was laughing, quietly, but laughing at least.

“I think you should tell Zack and Jon about your family too,” he suggested, but Brendon immediately shook his head.

“It’s okay... no... they don’t… things only got bad with my family after they found out that I might be gay, and… I don’t… they were good... they are good people... it's my fault... and Jon and Zack... they don’t need to know about everything… and I don’t want to explain all that, and… I can’t tell them….”

“You can’t tell them?”

“I can’t tell them that I might be gay… I just can’t, Spencer. I can’t explain it without mentioning that, and I can’t let them know.”

“Why not?” Spencer asked. He’d loosened his hold on Brendon a bit, so now only his arm was around the kid’s shoulders. Brendon had relaxed significantly, and though he had tensed up again talking about this, he wasn’t crying anymore.

“I don’t know for sure that I am, and I just… I don’t want them to hate me…” Brendon’s voice was tiny and shaky. It made Spencer sad. Didn’t Brendon know better? That they weren’t like that?

“Bren….”

“I’ll tell them if I have to one day, okay? I will if it comes to that, but… I just… I need to keep some stuff secret for now, okay?”

Spencer could respect that; he had secrets too. Fine, fine. “Alright, I get it, B. You don’t have to tell them.”

Brendon melted back into his side. “Thank you….”

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked.

Brendon bumped his head against Spencer’s shoulder and sighed.  He said, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” and it was the first time Spencer actually believed him in a while.

 

…

The following night, Brendon’s phone rang again at dinner. They all turned to stare at it wide eyed, and Brendon held his breath. It rang once, twice, three times, and then Brendon was on his feet and going over to it without looking at anyone else in the room. It rang a fourth time, and Brendon hesitated a second, not ready to do this but figuring he owed it to Zack and Mason anyways. He bit his lip before grabbing it and pressing ‘answer,’ then lifting the phone to his ear.

“H-hi… hey Mase…”

“Brendon, oh my gosh!” Mason exploded into a long line of excited talking, and Brendon just grinned to himself and listened. He thought he was the only one who did that when he was excited, but it must have been a family thing. He listened to Mason yell at him for a while, not really yelling because he sounded absolutely overjoyed that Brendon had actually picked up.

“Yeah, I missed you too…”

 

…

Spencer had plans- plans that involved meeting Jon at work, drinking coffee and chatting up the baristas like a cool, almost college kid would, and hopefully giving a girl his number. He needed a date, damn it. And he needed to get out of the apartment. More than anything, he really needed to go hang out with Jon. He was so bored, and he could only watch TV with Brendon for so long.

He had his phone and wallet in his pocket, jacket on, shoes tied, and he was just stepping out the apartment door when Zack grabbed him by the back of the collar and tugged him back, catching Spencer by surprise. He totally didn’t make a strange yelping noise, and he also didn’t think about flipping off Brendon when the younger werewolf laughed at him. The little shit. But more importantly….

“Zack, what the hell?” He kind of whined, and yeah, that was totally a sign that he’d been spending too much time with the world’s most vocal fourteen year old, who was currently watching South Park upside down on the couch and giggling like an idiot, his face alarmingly red from blood flow. Spencer needed new friends. Maybe he should hit Ryan up, or check in at least. If Ryan even wanted to talk to him…

“Everyone has to stay inside today. There’s… Something is happening, and it’s too dangerous to let you out on your own,” Zack said, and he sounded serious, which wasn’t really rare for Zack. The guy was serious a lot. But he usually didn’t sound this… (oh come on, Spencer, think of a college word…) morose. He was a downright thundercloud.

“Dangerous? What’s dangerous?” he asked, crossing his arms. Brendon was paying attention now, neck bent in a way that looked painful so he could look up at them while still staying upside down.

“I’ll explain when Jon gets here. Take a seat, Spence, you aren’t going anywhere.”

Spencer sighed and slumped down on the couch next to Brendon who was giggling because of the word ‘dildo.’ Dildo, for the love of God, fourteen year olds are so weird….

It wasn’t five minutes later (five minutes that Zack spent pacing and straightening things, a nervous habit of his, sitting down and standing up, and just moving around the entire time, really. Like Brendon, but steadier and less twitchy) that there was a rather large puff of smoke. Spencer smelled coffee and warmth and dollar store shampoo, which meant Jon, and also cinnamon, which meant someone else… Two people appeared by the front door when the smoke cleared. Someone short and small, dressed entirely in tight, black clothing, standing next to Jon, who was dressed in baggy jeans, a wrinkled shirt, and a starbucks apron. The little guy… that was the fairy prince guy. Oh boy.

“Dude,” Jon complained, fanning smoke away from himself. “Couldn’t we have walked?”

“It’s more fun to just poof places. Walking is for poor, deprived creatures.”

As if proving his point, Peter whatever his whole name is, disappeared into another puff of smoke and then appeared immediately on the couch next to them, legs draped over Brendon’s stomach and back against the armrest. It must have caught Brendon off guard, because he flailed and screamed and then fell ungracefully off the couch. Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, but he hooked his hands under Brendon’s armpits and pulled him back onto the couch too, because Spencer was a nice guy, of course.

“Stop being so loud!” Zack sounded urgent, hurrying over. “Jon, sit. Pete, what’s the update?” Zack came over and sat down on the nearby armchair while everyone else squeezed onto the couch. Pete shifted so that he was sitting crosslegged and set his fingers on his temples, closing his eyes for a moment, like he was meditating or some shit. Zack watched him carefully, and Spencer just looked at Brendon and shrugged.

“They’re downtown. There’s four of them, and I recognize the one. He has a lot of experience. I can’t get in their heads, they’re too far away, but they don’t seem to be on anyone’s trail at the moment…” Pete finally said, letting his eyes open. He looked more serious than Spencer had ever seen him, and it just made him curious. What exactly was going on?

“You warned the others?” Zack asked.

“I told Alex, and the family pack in the suburbs.” Spencer totally didn’t let himself think about Haley. Not at all. “I dropped in on the vampires near industrial. Patrick is warning the others, Joe is ready to help in case anything happens, and I’ve found this mortal guy, Hurley or something. Totally into wolf culture. I’m keeping my eye on him, you know how mortals can be…. But I’ve been in his head and he’s legit, also a doctor. So if anything happens….”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Zack’s voice was solid. Brendon was leaning into Spencer’s side, chin propped up on Spencer’s shoulder, listening wide eyed and careful. His heartbeat was fast enough to tell Spencer he was scared. Jon, on the other hand, looked as relaxed as always.

“What’s going to happen?” Spencer asked, because really, he had no idea what anyone was talking about, and he didn’t like that. Zack turned and looked at him, but it was Pete who spoke.

“Hunters have come to town. We haven’t seen any legitimate ones in a while. It’s usually just gun toting conservative mortals, but these guys are the real deal. They’re loaded with silver, which means they’re wolf hunting.”

Spencer frowned and looked between Zack and Pete. “Wolf hunting? You mean werewolves?” Zack nodded.

Brendon piped up, “Like… they want to kill us? Why would they want to kill us? We haven’t done anything,”

“We’re wolves, and that’s enough for people like this,” Jon said. Spencer realized he was a bit more tense than he let on, the way his voice came out as a bit of a growl and his hands were tense on his legs. “These mortals get power hungry, and they feel like it’s their duty to rid the world of evil.”

“But we aren’t evil,” Spencer said. Right? It wasn’t like those stories they told little kids, about wolves that tear your throat out and attack anything that moves. Wolves that lose complete control under the moon. Wolves that are battling some kind of internal monster, fighting to hold on to their sanity… It wasn’t like that at all. They were just… normal. Humans. With benefits.

“We aren’t,” Zack said with a sigh, leaning back in his seat. “But there’s some that are, and these people base all of their beliefs off of that….”

“I don’t understand….” Spencer wasn’t a monster. Neither was Jon or Brendon or Zack or Haley…. He’d never really thought about evil. It was hard to wrap his mind around someone wanting to kill him.

“I need to tell you guys something,” Zack said, folding his hands like this was important. Brendon leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and Spencer leaned back. Jon didn’t look surprised; he probably already knew what Zack had to say. “It’s about being a werewolf, and something that can happen. You guys know by now the changes that happen after you’re bit…. your senses become focused, your metabolism is faster, you run on a higher body temperature, and you’re stronger, among other things. Well, considering all of that, it would be pretty easy to take down a mortal….”  He looked at them in a way that was asking if they still understood, so Spencer nodded.

“Accidents can happen sometimes.  If, for example, a wolf isn’t eating enough, the hunger can be overwhelming. Pair this with heightened senses and send them off alone during a full moon, and they can sometimes lose control. Sometimes they attack humans… When this happens, when they have lost control of themselves to the point that they attack somebody, they almost always go for the heart, and that is the most dangerous thing they can do. Not only for the mortal, who is obviously, erm.. going to die, but for the wolf themselves.”

Brendon had the most horrified expression Spencer had ever seen on his face. Jon and Pete, on the other hand, looked bored yet solemn. Pete had fire dancing on his fingertips, and he stared at that.

“How is it dangerous?” Spencer asked, turning his attention back to Zack. “For the wolf?”

“There is one piece of mythology that people got right, you know,” Jon chimed in, and Spencer’s head snapped towards him. “If you eat a human heart, it is apparently the greatest experience you’ll ever have, like drugs.”

“And it can overwhelm you. You can become addicted, obsessed, and after that, most wolves lose control and become rogue,” Zack added.

“Which is why there are hunters,” Pete said, still watching his fire, and grinning creepily. “A wolf goes rogue, someone’s family member is found in the woods with their heart torn out, people get scared, and then they decide to take it into their own hands. For revenge. These stories spread around, and now even though less than five percent of wolves go rogue, everyone is too scared to think any different.”

“What are we going to do?” Brendon asked in a quiet voice. “Are they going to kill us?”  He sounded scared, so Spencer put his arm around him.

“I’m going to head them off now, actually,” Pete said, standing up. “Have Trick shift the wind, send them wandering somewhere else. Maybe get in their heads and confuse them, make them go home. Something fun like that.”

“For now, we stay right here. I don’t want anyone getting grabbed,” Zack said. He nodded up at Pete, “Thanks for your help. Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck.” Pete smirked, cackling before he disappeared into smoke, leaving only a whisper and some irritated sinuses in his wake.

“I just need you guys to know,” Zack said, looking at Spencer and Brendon carefully. “If you come across a hunter, you do everything necessary to get away from them, because if they get power over you, they will hurt you, and they’ll enjoy it.”

Brendon shuddered. “How do we know if it’s a hunter though?”

“Garlic,” Jon shrugged. “All of them reek of it, to keep vampires away. They’re more scared of them than they are of us, really. We’re so much easier to kill.”

“Wow…” Brendon whispered. Spencer hugged him a bit closer.

“Well,” Jon stood up and came to flop down next to Spencer and Brendon. “Since we’re trapped in here anyways, who’s ready to get their ass kicked at Halo?”

It turned out that while distracted, Spencer was even worse at Halo than normal, which was pretty sad. Brendon and Jon didn’t really seem into it either, though, and Zack just sat there quietly, watching, his mind obviously far away.

…

After that, the rest of the summer passed without a lot of drama. Pete used some kind of persuasive fairy voodoo and shooed the hunters out of town (“They’re someone else’s problem now, the mother fuckers,” he’d said) and they were allowed out of the apartment again. There weren’t anymore fights over cellphones, and things were just nice.

The state was still engulfed in the dry heat of summer, but Spencer could tell Fall was approaching because of the ever-growing knot in his stomach. There was also a list that Brendon had stuck up on the refrigerator, a countdown of sorts, of things that he had to get done before summer was over. Some of it didn’t make a whole lot of sense, and some of the things were just song titles, but Spencer had a feeling those had to do with Jon teaching Brendon to play guitar. There were probably a dozen songs on that list, and Spencer had no idea how Brendon hoped to learn those in just two weeks, but he didn’t mention it. Brendon was determined (if also very bad at guitar, since he’d just started), and he got a wounded expression on his face whenever Spencer brought it up, so he just... didn’t. At least Brendon was smiling again, which he’d stopped doing for a little while. It had kind of been freaking Spencer out.

School was also freaking him out. He’d withdrawn his application to Colorado State and had enrolled himself at the local community college. It was cheaper, and he didn’t feel a whole lot like going away and living in a dorm on the other side of the state anyways. Too many things had changed last year, and he’d just like everything to hold still for a while. Besides, living with Jon and Zack and Brendon had to be at least a little bit similar to the roommate experience. He wasn’t missing a whole lot.

His first day of classes was September first (one day before he turned eighteen. Happy freaking birthday), and although he didn’t make a list and stick it to the fridge the way Brendon had, Spencer had a few things he wanted to get done too.

Actually, just one thing.

Ryan’s birthday was two days before his, and Spencer figured that, since they hadn’t talked to each other the entire summer, maybe they were both cooled down enough to be friends again. Or maybe Ryan would be even more pissed because of the absence and this entire thing would backfire. Spencer wasn’t sure, but he figured Ryan deserved a present on his birthday anyways, so he dragged Jon to the bookstore with him and walked around listlessly for an hour. He didn’t even know what to get for his best friend’s birthday. How sad was that?

“Hey,” Jon wandered over to him after a while, holding a small yellow paperback in his hand. “Palan… Palah… whatever this guy’s name is. Palahniuk? Didn’t you mention that he liked this guy before?”

Spencer wasn’t sure how much he talked about Ryan, actually, let alone what he had mentioned, but yeah, Ryan totally loved this guy. Spencer had heard him talk about Fight Club and metaphors and word usage and anarchy for, like, four weeks straight. He hadn’t even read the thing, but he could probably write a book report on it and get an A, thanks to Ross. Jon was a genius.

Spencer told him that, patting him on the shoulder and taking the book to the check out.

The closer it got to August 31st, the more Spencer thought this was a bad idea, but that didn’t stop him from wrapping the book nicely (he knew how picky Ryan could be about details and art and blah blah blah), and on Ryan’s birthday, he found himself all the way across town, standing on the porch, hand raised to knock. There was no going back now. Jon had dropped him off and then gone off to work, so if he didn’t talk to Ryan, he’d just have to turn around and walk all the way back home. He took a deep, steadying breath, and then he knocked. And knocked. And knocked…

“Ryan, come on…” he mumbled under his breath, pounding his fist on the door again, when suddenly it flew open.

“What?”

Spencer couldn’t help but jumping slightly, because even though he was a big bad werewolf, and he totally wasn’t scared of Mr. Ross at all, it still startled him. He was almost as tall as Ryan’s dad. He wasn’t a mammoth guy, not like Zack or Brendon’s dad. He was even kind of skinny like his son. Still, he was mean, and Spencer had been expecting Ryan. Ryan could have a pretty vicious glare when he wanted, but his father had him totally owned.

“Uhm.. I. Uhm,” eloquent, Spencer, get a hold of yourself. “Is Ryan here?”

Spencer was prepared for a lot of reactions from the old man in front of him, but he wasn’t expecting the bitter laugh that erupted out of him, loud and shattering.

“That little piece of shit?” Mr. Ross practically barked at him. “He’s gone! Skipped town. I don’t know where the hell he is, but he’d better not come back!”

Spencer blinked. “He’s gone?” Ryan was gone? He’d run away? He’d just.. left? Without saying goodbye?

“Isn’t that what I just said, boy?” Mr. Ross yelled at him. “Get off of my porch!”

“Did he say where he went?” Spencer asked stubbornly. He wasn’t leaving without answers. “Did he leave a note?”

“He didn’t say shit,” Mr. Ross answered bitterly. “But he’s not in town anymore, lemme tell ya that. Don’t bother looking for the little faggot.” And with that, the door slammed closed in Spencer’s face. Spencer took a moment, letting himself be in shock, to stare blankly at the door and try to digest what Mr. Ross had just told him. Ryan was gone. Gone. It seemed impossible, but…

He couldn’t help but wonder if he was to blame for this. By kind of ditching Ryan and everything… If he had been there for him, would Ryan have run away? But he couldn’t be there for Ryan. Ryan didn’t want his help to begin with.

‘He did this to himself,’ Spencer told himself, but he didn’t actually believe it.

He took the long way home through the woods, and when he went over the bridge by his house, he threw his book into the creek underneath it. He imagined the ink of his note on the front page smearing into nothing and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. The note had been simple- “I’m sorry”- but Ryan probably didn’t want to hear it anyways. It was a long walk home.

…

Spencer would have been happy, after that, to just curl up in bed with headphones on and be pissed off and sad all by himself, but the universe obviously had different plans for him. Not even thirty seconds after walked into the apartment, there was someone banging on the door. He frowned and walked over to open it, and at this point, really, Spencer was fucking sick of surprises.

“Hey!” Haley chirped, letting herself in past Spencer and smiling. Spencer couldn’t even make himself smile, he was too confused. He just frowned.

“How do you know where I live?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I caught your scent when you were out, and I followed you.” She shrugged and smiled innocently. Spencer crossed his arms tighter. Why wouldn’t this girl just leave him alone?

“What do you want?” he asked.

“You know, you used to be sweet to me, Spencer,” she said, frowning a bit, and Spencer felt like an asshole. “I’m leaving for California tomorrow, and I wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh.” Everyone was leaving. “Bye.”

“That’s all?” she asked, looking pissed. So many emotions… Spencer was having trouble keeping up.

“Sorry?”

“You never texted me.” She punched him in the shoulder, harder than it looked like she would be able to. Like they were playing. Like they were still friends.

“Sorry.”

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him for a moment. Spencer felt flushed and uncomfortable. “You’re not as hot as I remember,” she said finally, after a few moments. “You’re going to community college, right?”

“Yeah.”

They were quiet for another horribly awkward moment. Spencer caught Brendon come into the room in his peripheral vision. He stopped in the doorway.

Haley looked at him for a moment before turning her attention back to Spencer. “I didn’t know he was a wolf now,” she said, sounding curious. Spencer didn’t feel like answering any questions.

“Yeah. Look, I have stuff to do….”

She nodded. “Yeah, sure. See you around, Spencer Smith.” She leaned in and kissed Spencer on the cheek, while Spencer just held his breath and focused on not moving. Then, just like that, she was gone. Spencer felt like he’d been punched in the stomach instead of the arm.

“Was that Haley?” Brendon asked, when Spencer spun around and stormed down the hall to his and Jon’s bedroom.

“Shut up,” was all he said before slamming the door and falling face first onto his bed. He kind of hated everything. He figured he deserved to be a little melodramatic at the moment.

 

…

Usually Spencer was the rational one, the one who told people that their ideas were stupid and discouraged them from doing bad things, but Jon was standing there with a bottle in his hand, smirking like the devil, and Spencer was already in a shitty mood… and really, when, from the first day they met, has he ever been able to say no to Jon walker?

Spencer had wrenched himself out of bed to eat dinner, but he was quiet the whole time and immediately returned to his bed to sulk afterwards. It wasn’t until Zack had left for work that Jon came to bug him.

“Hey puppy, you smell like an absolute raincloud,” Jon said, leaning against the doorjamb. “You could totally use a drink.”

He and Ryan had made a pact a long time ago that they’d never drink away their emotions. They wouldn’t be like Ryan’s dad. But, well… Ryan wasn’t even talking to Spencer anymore. He wasn’t even in town anymore. So, what the hell?

“I totally, really could,” Spencer groaned, not bothering to sit up. “What is that?”

“Your birthday present,” Jon said, traipsing over and hopping onto Spencer’s bed, making the whole thing bounce. Spencer rolled his eyes.

“No, genius. I meant.. oh just give me that.” He took the bottle and read the label. “Whiskey. Cool.”

“Happy birthday!” Jon said. He pulled some cans of coke out of his hoodie pocket, along with two plastic cups and smiled, like he was proud of himself or something.

“My birthday isn’t for two more days,” Spencer said, smiling to himself without meaning too.

“Yeah, well…”

“Neither of us are legal.” Spencer didn’t know why he was suddenly on the verge of laughter, but Jon smiled at him and shrugged.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Spencer agreed, nodding as Jon popped open the coke cans and mixed the coke and whiskey into the cups. He handed the whiskey bottle to Spencer, who was curious, so he took a swig straight from the bottle and just about died. It was the worst thing he had ever tasted in his entire life, and it burned his throat, oh my God. Jon laughed at him, so hard that he almost spilled the drinks everywhere, and then he poured more coke into Spencer’s before handing it to him.

Spencer wasn’t sure how many cups they drank, but they filled them up whenever they started to get empty. Jon made a run to the kitchen for more coca cola, and he came back juggling an armful of cans. They emptied all of them, plus over half the bottle of whiskey. Some time during that, they also had a joint or two. Spencer wasn’t sure when. Everything was kind of blurry around the edges, and he was pretty sure that everything wasn’t as funny as he thought it was.

He wasn’t sure how they ended up in the position they were in, Spencer on his back on the bed with Jon on top of him, situated so that they’re legs were sandwiched together. Jon’s arms were braced on either side of Spencer’s head to hold him up and his hands were in Spencer’s hair. Spencer’s hands stayed tentatively on Jon’s hips, and their mouths moved against each other. It was weird, different than kissing Haley had ever been, and Spencer had plenty of experience there to compare this too. But his brain was a bit too fuzzy to compare anything, and he didn’t actually mind the way Jon’s almost-beard was scratching against him while they kissed. In fact, he wasn’t really thinking about what they were doing at all, and when Jon grabbed him and rolled them over so that he was on top, the only thought in his mind was ‘whoa’ and maybe he didn’t mind being manhandled so much.

It was kind of messy, and even after all the times he’d made out with Haley, he still wasn’t sure he knew what he was doing. He was also a bit queasy, but that might have been from the booze, and he was ignoring it. Jon tasted like whiskey and something sweet and he smelled like coffee and a little bit like sweat and something else, and it was nothing at all like kissing Haley, but he was drunk and it had been a while, so he closed his eyes and pretended. He was a teenaged boy and he was kiss deprived, damnit.

Of course all of this woke something else up as well. Spencer was hard in his pants and could feel Jon pressed against his hip as well, but Jon didn’t even acknowledge that. He totally could have taken advantage of Spencer in this situation, totally, because Spencer was half asleep at this point and too loopy to even try to stop him, but instead Jon pulled back and nudged at his shoulder when Spencer just dropped his head down heavily on Jon’s chest.

“Hey,” he nudged him gently. “Hey, Spence, we should go to sleep….”

“Sleep here,” Spencer mumbled, his voice not feeling like his own, and definitely slurring. He felt and heard Jon sigh. When Jon leaned up to hit the light switch and make sure neither of their drinks had spilled, Spencer just clung to him until he held still again. Jon snagged the blanket off his own bed (it was good that their beds were close together) and covered them up, but Spencer was almost entirely asleep by this point.

He felt Jon press a kiss to the top of his head, murmuring “Happy birthday, puppy,” and then Spencer was out.

**  
**

…

Spencer woke up glued to the mattress; even his eyelids were too heavy to lift. The light coming in through the window was blinding even with his eyes closed, his head was pounding so hard it felt like his eyelids were twitching with each thump, and his stomach could only be compared to the ocean on a bad day.

“Oh my God,” he groaned, his lips sticking together when he opened his mouth, which tasted awful. It felt like it was made of cotton. Cotton that had been dunked in a McDonald’s toilet a few times. “Oh my God,” he repeated, rolling onto his stomach. “Oh my God, I’m dying.”

The bed moved, and someone next to him was shifting. “Fuck,” Jon’s voice croaked out. “Ungh....”

“I’m dead. I swear to God I’m dead,” Spencer groaned, and he heard Jon chuckle, that motherfucker. “What the fuck happened last night?”

“Too much fucking whiskey,” Jon said. The bed moved again, dipping as Jon sat up or something, and Spencer’s stomach tossed around. Oh my God he was dying. Holy shit.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Fuck I’m never doing that ever again. How much did we fucking drink?”

“Too much,” Jon said. He hand was warm, too hot, where it was rubbing Spencer’s back. “We should have taken it easy last night. You’re such a light weight, you were drunk after two cups.”

“God, I don’t even remember past two cups.” Spencer used all of his body strength to shove himself into sitting position. His stomach protested. His head spun around angrily. When he opened his eyes, the room was definitely too bright. He wanted to die. “God damn how does Ryan’s dad do this every day?” He flopped face forward onto the bed, folded practically in half over his folded legs. Jon was petting his back again, and it did nothing but make him more nauseous.

“You don’t remember what happened last night?” he asked, and he sounded hesitant. Spencer frowned.

“No?” he said. “I don’t remember past a couple of drinks. Fuck. I feel awful. How could you let me do this?” he was mostly teasing.

“Oh…” Jon said. Spencer didn’t really care. His head hurt, and he really needed to brush his teeth and drink, like, fifty glasses of water.

“Mother of fuck.”  He pried himself off the bed and tried not to fall over or throw up. “I call first shower.”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Jon didn’t look nearly as hungover as Spencer felt.

Spencer ruffled Jon’s hair and stumbled out of the room, wondering what Jon was acting so weird about. He seriously didn’t remember anything that had happened the night prior. He remembered alcohol, and it tasted awful at first, but not so bad once it’d been mixed with coke. He remembered laughing a lot and hiding the bottle from Brendon when he’d come to investigate. He remembered a joint or two maybe, but really, after his fourth cup or so, he didn’t remember anything at all. What the fuck. It was weird, having a memory gap, but he pushed it away and focused on showering without throwing up, which proved to be impossible. The whiskey tasted like toxic chemicals when it came back up, and his headache exploded like starbursts behind his eyes. He would never drink again. Never, ever again, holy shit.

**  
**

…

Spencer’s birthday just happened to land on the full moon, which was kind of epic. Spencer spent the entire day bouncing around and feeling too itchy and tight in his skin, waiting for the sun to set already. They celebrated at dinner. Zack had bought a cake at the store that said ‘Happy 18th Birthday Spence!’ on it in green letters, and they let Brendon put the candles on it. Brendon didn’t believe in conventional birthday candle rules (one for each year) so there ended up being 73 candles on the thing (he’d ran down to the convenience store and bought every box they had) and Spencer was laughing so hard that he couldn’t even blow them all out.

Zack got him a new backpack for his birthday, which came wrapped in a gift bag with messily placed tissue paper. It was bigger than his last one and totally not falling apart, which was nice, since his college textbooks were a lot heavier than his high school ones. Brendon’s gift was a handful of pins wrapped up in, like, twelve layers of newspaper that Spencer had a hell of a time getting open, which Brendon thought was hilarious. That made it worth it. One said “T-rexes aren’t mad, they just want hugs.” Another said “this is my happy face” and another had the Halo symbol on it. They were pretty awesome.

Jon’s present was wrapped neater that Spencer thought he was capable of, and he felt a bit guilty tearing it open. Inside there were two books. One was “A Catcher in the Rye” which Jon had been telling him to read for forever (“Holden is just like you, puppy! He’s all pissed off and angsty too!”) and the other was a photo album. He felt a little awkward, sitting there flipping through the photo album while everyone was staring at him. Inside were pictures that he didn’t even remember being taken. There was a picture at the pizza place, some of him and Brendon hanging out on the couch before Brendon moved in (one showed them both asleep, Brendon curled up almost entirely on top of Spencer, and it made him laugh). There were pictures from graduation too, and just. A ton. Spencer saw Jon with a camera a lot, but he never realized.

“This is amazing,” he said, standing up and pulling Jon into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

Jon pressed a smile into the side of Spencer’s head. “You welcome, puppy,” he nipped at Spencer’s ear, making Spencer laugh and try to shove him away. They ended up falling over and wrestling on the floor until Brendon jumped on top of them, doing some serious damage to Spencer’s spine with his knee. Zack laughed but eventually threatened that none of them were getting cake if they didn’t get off the damned floor, and well, that got them up pretty fast.

Afterwards, Spencer and Jon were hanging out in their room, chilling on Jon's bed. Brendon was helping Zack clean up in the kitchen, and they were all just waiting for the sun to go down so that they could go out. Jon was reading one of his old books, and Spencer had started "The Catcher in the Rye" which didn't make a whole lot of sense, but Spencer already loved the Holden character.

"So, uhm..." Jon said awkwardly, closing his book gently and setting it aside. Spencer glanced up at him. "I have another birthday present for you…."

Jon was blushing and acting all bashful, and Spencer was curious. He turned to face him. "What is it?"

Jon grinned and fidgeted a bit. "Well, uhm..." he met Spencer's eye and then leaned in, and then he was...

Spencer shoved him back. "What are you doing?"

Jon looked startled, mouth hanging open a bit. "I.. uhm..."

"Did you just... why did you just kiss me?" Spencer asked. He let his book fall closed on the floor when he scrambled off the bed.

"I... I.. Uhm..." Jon stuttered out. "Spence, I was just…."

Spencer ran out of the room, through the apartment, and out the front door, slamming it closed behind him. He didn't go very far, just into the hallway, where he leaned his head against the wall and thought 'oh my god' repeatedly.  That’s all he was really capable of.  Jon had just kissed him. Jon had just fucking kissed him. What the fuck? Why had he done that? Did it mean something? Did Spencer want it to mean something? No. No, he wasn't gay, but he had just kissed a boy. Oh my God.

He growled quietly, closing his eyes, and when he focused, he could hear the conversation inside. "What's wrong with Spencer?" "Is he okay?" "I... uhm... I just kissed him..." "You... kissed him?" Brendon was totally laughing. Figures. "I'm. I'm gonna go talk to him."

And then Jon was in the hallway too before Spencer could run away. Spencer just clenched his fists and sighed, bracing himself.

"Spence, I-"

"I'm not gay," Spencer interrupted. "And, like, I don't care if you are or whatever. That's cool. But I'm not, so."

"I'm sorry," Jon said. He was still kind of flushed and he looked miserable. Spencer felt pretty miserable too, so. "I wasn't thinking, okay? It didn't mean anything. I swear."

Spencer swallowed hard. "I'm not gay.”

Jon sighed, "I know that," and Spencer nodded.

"Okay…."

"Are we cool?  Please tell me we’re cool." Jon was probably as close to tears as Spencer had ever seen him, and it was kind of freaking him out.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, of course, fuck, man. You're," he took a deep breath, kind of shaky. His lips felt all tingly, but he was trying not to think about it. "You're like my brother. You're like Brendon. Of course we're friends. I'm just not into you that way."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course," Jon said. Spencer nodded again, feeling weird as he ducked in and hugged Jon. Jon hugged him back warm and tight, the way he always hugged, and it was kind of comforting. The kiss hadn't meant anything, Spencer reminded himself. It was like a joke. Jon was like his brother. Spencer wasn't gay. Everything was fine.

Spencer tried to just get his mind to shut off, and he focused on how great his birthday had been so far, before. Before the thing he wasn't thinking about. The thing that he was going to laugh about one day. Spencer went back inside with Jon and kept his distance. He brushed off Brendon when he came bouncing over, and he pretended he didn't see Zack raise his eyebrow at them. Spencer also pretended not to notice that his parents hadn’t answered when he called them, or that they hadn't called first. It didn’t matter anyways. He'd just try again tomorrow. They were just busy or whatever….

…

Brendon was normally hyper on moon nights anyways, but after three pieces of cake and an unknown number of redbulls, he was the loudest most annoying bouncy little shit Spencer had ever had to deal with in his life.

“Brendon, oh my God, shut up!” he’d snapped, and Brendon had just giggled and done a cartwheel. Oh for the love of.

“Jon, I am going to kill him,” Spencer said seriously. Jon just rolled his eyes and ran up behind Brendon, scooping him up bridal style and making the younger boy squeal and laugh and kick his legs around trying to get free.

He wasn’t much better in wolf form, running sporadically all over the place, and Zack appointed Spencer to keep up with him and make sure he didn’t run off too far. Spencer followed after him, occasionally getting pounced on by an over-excited puppy, and Spencer really didn’t enjoy having drool all over him.

Brendon couldn’t hold still. When Spencer glanced back, he could see Zack and Jon maybe a hundred yards away. Brendon wasn’t very far ahead of him, but he was moving fast. That's when Spencer smelled another wolf and heard some twigs snapping. Spencer growled, trying to ward it off and get Brendon to come back, but Brendon wasn’t paying any attention. He was, actually, heading right towards the stranger. Spencer growled again, moving faster and trying to get to Brendon, when he saw the other wolf moving closer. It was running.

Spencer got there just in time, grabbing Brendon by the scruff and throwing him back before the strange wolf jumped on top of him, snarling and snapping. He was smaller than Spencer but bigger than Brendon, and Spencer really could have handled it, but then Zack was there. Zack was really fucking scary in wolf form. He tackled the wolf off of Spencer and rolled around as the two fought. Really, though, the wolf was tiny compared to Zack and it didn’t take a lot to pin him down. Zack’s teeth to the wolf’s throat left the wolf squirming and growling underneath him, and then he changed over, surprising everybody.

“Okay!”  It was a boy, not any older than Spencer (wolf vision meant that he could see just fine in the dark) with light hair spiked up everywhere and an angry-yet-panicked expression on his face. “Okay!” the kid yelled. “Okay! Get off of me, man! Come on!”

Zack changed over, back to human, and climbed off of the kid, who immediately scrambled backwards. He leapt to his feet and rubbed at his throat, glaring Zack down.

“What the fuck!?” he yelled.

“You’re in our territory,” Zack growled. “Who the hell are you?” Spencer decided to follow suit and changed back too, standing up and flanking Zack’s left, fists clenched. He was like, back up, or something. Jon was over by Brendon, nuzzling at him and making sure he was okay.

“I didn’t know it was yours. Jesus fucking Christ, you just about ripped my throat out!”

“Don’t attack my puppy next time,” Zack countered.

The boy clenched his fists and growled. “Keep him on a shorter fucking leash, then.”

Zack squared his shoulders back and took a deep breath; Spencer knew that he was calming himself down. He’d seen him do it before. Sometimes he was jealous of Zack’s levels of self control.

“You’re awfully young to be out here alone. Where’s your pack?”

The kid scoffed. “I’m not that young, old man. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re new in town,” Zack said.

“Prove it,” the kid snarled. Spencer clenched his fists tighter and growled, but stopped when Zack shot him a look.

“If you weren’t new here, you would have known that this is our part of the woods. We’re very territorial around here. I’d be careful, if I were you,” Zack said. “Not everyone around here is so nice to strangers.”

“Yeah, cause you’re so damned friendly. Fuck you, I can take care of myself,” he growled again and stuck his nose into the air. What a prick.

“Do you need somewhere to crash tonight?” Jon asked, totally ignoring the sharp look Zack shot him. He had switched over and come up behind Zack. “It can be dangerous around here, for people like us. Especially if you don’t know the territory.”

“I don’t care,” the kid said. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” Jon said, and the kid was. His neck had prickles of blood, there was a large scratch across his chest that had to be painful, and his back was probably scraped all to hell. He was standing gingerly, more weight on one leg, like he'd sprained his ankle or something. “We can help clean you up, and we have food.”

Spencer saw something flicker through the kid’s eyes. He looked a bit younger when he wasn’t scowling.

“Why should I trust you?” he challenged.  He pointed at Zack and declared, “He tried to kill me!”

“But I didn’t,” Zack said. “That’s reason enough.”

The kid crossed his arms tight over his chest, fists still clenched and glared them down for a moment, considering. Brendon switched over and came up behind Spencer, pressing against his back and hooking his chin over Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer had been growing, so he knew Brendon was probably on his tiptoes to accomplish this. He didn’t really mind that they were naked. He’d gotten used to it.

“Fine…” he finally said. “But I’m not sleeping there, and I’m leaving as soon as I have what I want.”  He put his nose back in the air and tried to look tough.

“That’s fine,” Jon said, using a gentle voice that Spencer recognized and Jon was really the only one who could sound just like that. “Where are your clothes at?”

He shifted around and pointed to the left. “That way. About a quarter mile. I haven’t gone far.”

Jon nodded. “We’ll wait here. Ours are a mile that way, and our place isn’t very far from there.”

**  
**

“Fine,” he said, glaring at them one more time before changing over, turning, and sprinting away. They waited there, Brendon fidgeting nervously and Spencer trying to relax his nerves a little.

“What the hell was that?” Zack snapped, spinning to face Jon. “What if that kid is a criminal or something? You’re inviting him to our apartment?”

“He’s a lost little kid, Zack,” Jon snapped. “He’s lost, he’s hurt, and if we don’t help him out then he’s going to run into someone else. You said it yourself. People aren’t nice around here.”

Jon and Zack glared steadily at each other, and Spencer was honestly surprised that Jon was willing to go against Zack like that. He was usually the most complacent one in the pack. This was new.

“Alright,” Zack said. “Alright, that’s fine.”

Jon nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re just like your mother.”

“Good.”

The kid came jogging up to them, dressed in ratty jeans, a black shirt, a flannel under a filthy black hoodie, and tennis shoes that had seen better days. This kid had been on his own for a while… A lot of kids dressed ratty on purpose, but only a homeless person could be that filthy.

**  
“You freaks are naked. It’s disgusting. Come on.” He stalked off in the direction Jon had pointed in earlier. Spencer, Jon, Zack, and Brendon all exchanged a look before switching back to wolf form and running after him.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to yourrstalker for proofreading (making sure nothing sounds stupid) and for helping with the plot. Also for the roleplay that got this thing started in the first place <3 you're the best, babe.
> 
> ALSO special thanks to SQUID (you know who you are) for reading this thing, even if you do think that Brendon is too whiny :P Also for your five page report on proper vampire and werewolf mythology.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not know how to use indentations... so... sorry bout that... Read on!!!!


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